


Devil's Triangle

by WindMeister8



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Modern Era, Multi, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Psychological Drama, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Smut, Social Media, Stalker, Technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 55,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24389002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindMeister8/pseuds/WindMeister8
Summary: When small-time singer, Hermione Granger, returns to her hometown to escape a scandal, she reconnects with her troubled past and ends up stirring a chaotic maelstrom that ends with a string of horrific deaths. It boils down to enthusiastic policeman, Harry Potter, and a mild school counselor, Remus Lupin, to solve the murders with the help of the double-edged sword known as information technology.Disclaimer:Some characters have been aged up, some aged down. Backgrounds, family structures, are changed. Other OCs have been added.Note:This is actually an original novel that I posted on Tapas. I was curious to see how it would be received as a fanfic, so I converted some of my OCs to Harry Potter characters. If you enjoy reading it, please do check out the original version on Tapas! Early access to chapters is also on Tapas!Link:Devil's Triangle
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Remus Lupin & Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s), tonks lupin
Comments: 40
Kudos: 54





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Devil's Triangle](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/625198) by Ivan Skilling. 



_As a kid, it was always easy to tell myself, “When I grow up, I’m never going to be like Mum and Dad.” In retrospect, parents don’t have it easy._

_There’s a thousand and one ways in which things could go wrong. Most of the time, those wrong things are just small ripples in the current of time that eventually rights itself again._

_And then, there are those rare occasions - those that you never think will happen to you - where the small ripples are compounded and cause a large tidal wave that leaves nothing but destruction._

_A long time ago, my dad told me of one such occasion. Now, each time I look at my kid, I tell myself this._

_Remember._

_Remember the events that happened thirty years ago which shattered the peace and quiet of that little town nestled far away from prying eyes._

_No one knows where in the world it actually happened or who were involved. What matters is how and why everything spiraled out of control. So I tell you this story now the same way my dad did. And I want you to close your eyes and keep an open mind._

_Disregard race, religion, culture, nationality. This is a story of technology, parenthood, and morality._

_A story of love, choice, and death - the devil’s love triangle._


	2. Life Trackers 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of each chapter will have a small snippet of conversation from an unknown chat server. There will be some clues in it that will help later in the story! ;)
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

**[ 3 Decades Ago ]**

**May 8 202X**

**01:33**

_@ herm4ever: yo peeps. I was scrolling through my feed and found this cute pic of Hermione from like eons ago. Can’t link it here, so check my page._

_@ mr-drake: *whistles* boooy that is one hot piece of ass!_

**01:42**

_@ modthebod: Hey, anyone heard news about our goddess lately? I checked her Insta, her Twitter, FB, whatever… still nothing. I’m getting worried._

_@ mr-drake: chill man~ give the girl some timeout, dude. she’ll be back_

~ ~ ~

Together with the twinkling stars above, the artificial illumination of the city’s skyscrapers bathed the night sky in a dazzling light show. Hermione always thought the city lights outshone the stars - their glow was so bright and strong. It’s why she loved the city more than her small, quiet hometown in the middle of nowhere.

With one hand gripping the handle of her single trolley bag, she looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass pane at the set of blinking lights illuminating the runway below. Her gaze followed a plane speed down the long runway and take off. Within seconds, it was lost in the sky, just another dot blanketing the dark canvas. 

Hermione sighed. When she was a kid, she had dreamt of flying in a plane and going somewhere magical. She was only 16 when that dream came true.. Or so she thought.

Now here she was, back at the same spot, watching her high-flying career come to a heart-wrenching stop. 

No. She shook her head. She must not think that way. This was just a small downturn, another obstacle to overcome like the rest. Everything would be back to normal - she just had to lie low for the next few months.

Everything would be normal.


	3. Life Trackers 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the main male character, Harry! :D Be careful what you wish for, eh. ;P
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi!](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling) <3

Normal was the new boring, Harry thought as he yawned. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. From his desk situated smack dab at the front of the police station, he leaned back and appraised the small, crowded room with the sullen disapproval of a veteran who has seen better days.

Everything in the room screamed “old”, from the peeling white paint to the squeaking of the overhead fans. The faded billboard hanging on the wall was almost empty, save for a few community announcements. A single movable whiteboard meant for discussing and placing information of cases was covered with scribbles of routine tasks.

He looked around at the half dozen desks or so and their owners. Most of his colleagues were at least middle-aged and they were often not at their desks - choosing to spend time chit-chatting with each other around the pantry at the back. Unfortunately, he couldn’t flaw them for that.

After all, in their small town where everyone knew each other, big crime cases were almost non-existent. Save for the one in 1973 where some guy blew up a pinkie for stealing chickens. 

The crimes they dealt with these days were typically disturbance of peace and quiet, and the occasional vandalism. The most severe case they had was that of shoplifting. 

Never a sniff of drugs, or arson, or homicide.

That was why he had left his home town for better prospects in the city several years back. Young and full of vitality, he had poured all his energy into his job, even if it was just directing traffic and writing tickets. Maybe, just maybe, he had been a bit too overzealous and gave the wrong person a ticket. He had not thought he was in the wrong - still didn’t - and the price to pay for his pride had been a demotion.

Back home now, he was considered the young rookie by his colleagues. The eager one who had lots to learn. But he knew he had the mettle to be a good cop. He just needed the right case to prove it. Tough luck getting that here in “dead town”.

The front door burst open just then, letting in a blast of hot air. A rotund, middle-aged woman with short cropped hair marched in, her police cap sandwiched under her arm. She slapped her pudgy hands on Harry’s desk.

“We have a big case,” she announced sharply. Her voice boomed in the small room and Harry snapped up in his chair. A wide grin lit his face and his eyes danced with excitement.

“What happened? Is it a bank robbery? Street mugging?? Murder???” Questions tumbling out, Harry could barely quell the energy bubbling within him.

The woman’s jowls quivered uncontrollably until she finally burst into laughter. When her guffaws died down a little, she shook her head and said, “I’m just teasing you, Harry. Nothing happened.”

Harry deflated. His lips turning down into a scowl, he complained, “That’s not cool, Marsha. You had me really pumped up for nothing.”

“I wanted to see your reaction,” she chuckled.

Unable to remain mad at her, his expression melted into a mixture of resignation and disappointment. “It’s just.. you know how much I want to work on a big case.”

“I know.” She flashed him a maternal smile and patted him on the shoulder. 

Returning her smile, Harry sank back in his chair.

“But on a more serious note..” Marsha’s expression turned somber. “It’s good there are no big cases in this town. And I hope it remains that way.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied half-heartedly. 

Marsha nodded. “Well, back to work,” she said chirpily before walking over to her own desk.

Harry’s gaze followed her before flitting back to the glass door and the monotonous view outside. Under his breath, he muttered, “I still hope something big happens for once.”

“Just something.”


	4. Connecting Dots 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione returns to her hometown and receives a not-so-warm welcome.   
> I loved writing Rita though! :P
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

**May 10 202X**

_  
**21:02**  
@herm4ever: hey @modthebod, you heard anything about Hermione yet? Getting a little bored here trawling old pics._

_@modthebod: Maybe._

_@herm4ever: ? What do you mean by that?_

_@modthebod: Not sure yet. Getting some info but I’ll let you guys know, don’t worry._

_**21:25**  
@mr-drake: yo man, you better not keep us in the dark @modthebod. don’t be keeping Hermione all to yourselfs._

_**21:27**  
@modthebod: You don’t like how I deal with stuff, then fuck off @mr-drake._

~ ~ ~

Hermione’s breath hitched as she rounded the corner in her rented car. After almost twenty years, the old neighborhood still looked exactly the way she remembered it. Identical two-storey houses lined the road and her house sat at the very end of it. 

It was almost dinner-time, so most people were inside, but Hermione brought her car to a crawl in case any children darted out of the doors. She took her time looking around, noticing the newly-tarred road and the abundance of toys scattered in many of the front yards. Her quaint neighborhood had definitely grown in size and by the looks of it, was much better maintained 

As she neared the end of the street, her eyes settled on her second childhood home. The white paint was peeling in places but the house didn’t look as decrepit as she thought it would. There was grass in the front yard - that was a good change. All in all, it looked almost the same as when she had left it. 

According to the current land owner, he’d only rented it out twice over the course of the years. The previous tenant had taken care of it quite well, so there wasn’t much need for maintenance. Not many people came to the small town, so he had been happy to rent the house out to Hermione, especially when he found out who she was. 

Or had been, she mused bitterly. At least her ex-celebrity status had earned her a discount. Who knew the land owner would turn out to be a fan? She allowed herself a little smile at the thought of her far-reaching fame.

She slowed to a stop, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the car with her purse. The front gate wasn’t automated, so she reached into the designer clutch bag and fished out the keys. As she fumbled with the lock, not getting the right key the first time, a hoarse voice made her jump.

“What are you doing? Are you a thief?”

Hermione looked up to see an elderly woman squinting at her through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. With her frizzy white hair and baggy blouse and plants that clung to her thin frame, the woman looked like a witch out of a children’s movie. 

“Oh no,” Hermione laughed. “I’m the new tenant here. Still trying to figure out which key is which.”

Met with silence, her laughter trailed off awkwardly. She cleared her throat and extended a hand. “I’m Hermione by the way. Nice to meet you.”

The old woman eyed her but did not take her hand. “Rita Skeeter,” she said after a long pause.

“Nice to meet you, Rita.” Hermione smiled as she retracted her hand and wiped it on her short pencil skirt.

Not sure how to proceed with the conversation, she pointed a finger towards the house. “Well umm, I guess I’d better be going.”

“You know,” Rita interrupted before Hermione could even take a step. “The previous tenants were always so noisy.”

The odd bit of information was so out of the blue that Hermione could only look blankly at Rita. When she didn’t respond, the old woman jabbered on. 

“Always yelling at the top of their voices, you know. Always quarrelling with each other. That’s why they ended up in a divorce, of course.”

Hermione pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed. Gossip and gossipmongers were near the top on the list of things she hated. She folded her arms and said, “Okay, so what’s your point?”

The old woman bristled and regarded Hermione with contempt. “Well, I just wanted to warn you that I don’t take kindly to any loud noises. I’m a light sleeper and it is absolutely horrible to be woken up in the middle of the night. So preferably no late night parties or trysts with boyfriends or-”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Hermione cut in sharply as her fingers wrapped around the right key, having identified it by feeling the ridges along its edge. “I won’t be around much.”

She jammed the key into the lock and this time, it gave way easily. As she opened the gate, she turned to Rita and gave a sarcastic smile. “Oh and by the way, I’m single.”

Not bothering to wait for a reply, she walked back to her car, got in, and slammed the door as hard as she could. A look in her windshield showed a seething Rita with her cheeks stained red in fury. Satisfied and smug, Hermione gave a small wave before starting the engine and driving into her garage. By the time she exited her car and approached the gate to lock it back up, Rita was nowhere to be seen.

“Good riddance,” she mumbled to herself before securing the gate and heading back in. 

Well, that was a warm welcome.


	5. Connecting Dots 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old rooms bring back unsavory memories and Hermione flees - straight into Harry. :D His reactions are so cute~ ;P
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

Back inside her old home, Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. She stood in the hallway with her luggage and took in the dreary surroundings. Dull wallpaper lined the walls and a murky carpet covered the floor. She grimaced. The previous tenants had terrible tastes.

The hallway branched off into the kitchen and living room, but she would explore that later. Hermione hoisted her trolley bag and headed up the staircase that led from the hallway. The stairs creaked under her weight like before. She noticed that the photos that used to hang on the wall beside the staircase were replaced with paintings that purportedly increased the energy of the space.

At the top of the stairs was a small corridor that led off to two bedrooms - to her left was the master bedroom. She barely gave it a glance before turning to the right. Her old bedroom looked almost like how she remembered it. The posters of singers and pop divas were taken down but the bed, dressing table, and cupboard were left untouched. 

She placed her luggage to one side against the wall and plopped down on the bed. The springs squeaked but it had lost quite a bit of its bounce. Hermione looked around the room. It was drab and lacked character, except for the light pink walls that had faded since she had lived there.

At least the previous tenants had kept it neat, she comforted herself. Everything was in good condition and there wasn’t much to clean. As she sighed, her roving gaze fell on the open door that led to the master bedroom across from her. Unlike her room which still caught the last of the evening sun, the master bedroom was shrouded in darkness.

Hermione could make out the outline of the large king-sized bed there and the long wall-length mirror behind it. Her lips turned dry as she recalled the unmade sheets, the tangle of bodies, and that unwelcome sound. Fingers curled into the mattress beneath her. Her throat tightened, and with it, the familiar ache in her chest. 

The walls closed in on her until all she could see was the synchronized movement of shadows. Her breath rattled in sharp and shallow gasps. A familiar numbing sensation spread from the tips of her fingers down to the sole of her feet. Her vision blurred and she thought she was floating.

This was bad. 

Through the haze of anxiety, her mind screamed at her to get out of there. Hermione grabbed her clutch bag and stumbled out of her room and down the stairs. She was out the front door in a flash.

Not bothering to take her car, she headed for the gate, opening and closing it with a resounding slam. She hurried down the sidewalk with no clear destination in mind. She needed to put as much distance between her and that house - that bedroom. 

Her high heels beat a frantic rhythm on the pavement as she sped-walked through the neighborhood. The smell of food and peels of laughter that drifted from the houses melted into a blur. She wrapped her arms around her chest to protect herself from the icy cold settling into her bones, but it did nothing to assuage her. The cold came from inside.

She had to get away from all this. Setting her sights on her feet, she concentrated on putting one foot ahead of the other. Soon, the pavement and gated properties were replaced by road sidewalks and empty countryside.

The more she walked, the calmer she felt. The fresh night air helped soothe her burning lungs and her breathing returned to normal. Before she knew it, she had reached the small convenience store a few blocks away from her home. She had not been paying attention to her surroundings but muscle memory had led her here, to her old haunt.

Nothing had changed in her absence. There was still a hair salon around the corner, along with an old pub. In the distance was the town center, across a large empty field. She hesitated outside the store, wondering whether to turn back and head home, now that she felt better. But a growl from her stomach reminded her that the kitchen there was still empty.

She sucked in a deep breath and pushed the glass door open. A blast of cool air welcomed her along with the tinkling of a bell. Grabbing a basket from the entrance, she walked down the aisles in search of her dinner for tonight. 

With her mind pleasantly occupied by shopping, the tension in her body lessened and the unwelcome memory from before was shelved away in the recesses of her brain. She focused on mentally listing down some necessary household items, grabbing items off the shelves as she walked past. She didn’t take notice of the other customers until a tentative voice called out.

“Hermione? Is that you?”

Spinning around, she came face to face with a boyish-looking, young man. He had a squarish face and angular jaw that accented his sparkling, green eyes. In his hand was a very full shopping basket which, she noted, held a good variety of healthy foods. He seemed familiar but she couldn’t put a name to him yet.

She flashed him a polite smile in response. “Yes. And you are..?”

“It’s me, Harry! From high school, remember?”

The name rang a bell, bringing back memories of a skinny-looking kid who, on occasion, used to hang around her group of friends. He had grown into a handsome man, although his geeky choice of a simple tee and three-quarter cargo pants reminded her of the old Harry. 

“Oh my god, it’s been so long,” Hermione exclaimed. “I do remember you. How have you been?”

Harry beamed. “I’m doing fine. What are you doing back here?”

“Just taking a long break from work,” Hermione answered with a wave of her hand. It was a practiced answer that she had come up with. “In the meantime, I’ll be teaching art at our old school.”

“That’s awesome! So you’ll be staying here for a while then, I guess?” Harry bubbled with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, a few months or so.” She gave a vague answer, opting not to go into details. “How about you? What are you working as now?”

“Oh, me?” Harry rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. “I’m a police officer.”

She had not pegged him as the police type. Then again, she recalled he was into detective novels and such when he was young. Besides - she discreetly checked him out - it seemed like he was working out. 

“That’s cool. Hey, don’t arrest me if you catch me speeding.” Hermione winked.

“Ah of course I won’t-” Harry caught himself. “I mean I will arrest you-”

Blundering over his words, Harry’s ears turned red when he caught Hermione holding back her laughter. “I-I meant..”

“It’s alright. I’m just kidding,” Hermione chuckled. He was cute like this, and so fun to tease.

“Oh right,” Harry laughed sheepishly, his eyes averting from her gaze. 

A buzz emanated from Harry’s pants pocket and he fumbled to fish out his phone. He glanced at the screen, grimaced, and pushed it back into his pocket.

“Sorry, I have to go.” A tinge of disappointment colored his voice. “But it was nice to see you again.”

Hermione gave a small smile. “Nice to see you too.”

Harry turned to leave but he hesitated before spinning back to face her. “Oh hey, you know, if you want company or anything, just give me a ring or drop by my place. We can catch up or drink or-or...”

She swallowed down a chuckle. Despite the bungled attempt at inviting her into his bed, his sincerity shone through. If it had been a different man, she would be disgusted at the suggestion. But knowing Harry, he really meant to help her get settled in.

“Sure.” Her eyes glistened with warmth. “You do check Facebook right?”

Harry perked up and dipped his head. “Yeah, you can private message me if you want.”

“Great, I’ll see you around then.” She gave a wave of her hand.

A shade of pink tainted Harry’s cheeks and he waved back. As Hermione watched his receding back, she felt a rush of warmth through her body. She smiled to herself.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be back home.


	6. Connecting Dots 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry visits his sister, Luna's place for dinner and the news about Hermione is leaked, to the delight of some unsavory parties. Who can that be, I wonder? ;P
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

“You forgot to buy the spring onions again?! I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose, Harry.”

Harry groaned and slapped his forehead. “Damn, I knew I missed something.”

“Oh drop the pretense.”

“I’m serious, Luna,” Harry fixed his sister in an earnest gaze. “I was going to get it but along the way, I met someone.”

Luna rolled her eyes as she set the table for three. “You know, if you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. You’re a policeman, Harry - at least learn to lie properly.”

“But I’m not lying!” he protested.

Luna placed the last plate down on the circular, wooden table and turned to look at him. With one hand on her hip, her sharp eyes bore into his. 

Harry gulped under her scrutiny. His elder sister was the figure of authority ever since they were kids. A single look from her was enough to have him scuttling for safety when he had done something naughty. Now that they were older, her thick, wavy hair and long diamond-shaped face accentuated the sharpness of her expression even more.

He held his breath as she looked at him squarely. Then Luna lifted her hands in defeat. “Fine. So who is this someone you met?”

Harry almost sighed in relief. “Do you remember that girl I used to hang around when I was a teen?”

Her face scrunched in thought. Luna took a few seconds before replying, “Was it that wild, pretty one whose mother was a second wife?”

“Yes, yes! Hermione, remember?” Harry enthused.

A smirk grew across Luna’s lips. “You still like her after all these years? I didn’t know my little brother was this loyal.”

Red bloomed across his cheeks. He spun back towards the kitchen, busying himself with bringing out the glasses of water. He heard Luna chuckle in the dining room and he grimaced, wishing he hadn’t brought it up in the first place.

When he re-entered the dining room, he averted his eyes from Luna. But as he placed the glasses on the table, he felt a hand ruffle his hair.

“Alright, I won’t tease you,” Luna said between muffled laughter. “So how is she? Why is she back?”

Harry grumbled under his breath. He glowered at her for a moment before sighing in resignation. He could never stay angry with her for long. “She looks as radiant as before. Apparently, she’s taking a break from work. So she’ll be teaching art at our old school.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “A break huh. Interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess Shawn will be seeing her in school. Where is that boy by the way?” Harry looked around the house, trying to catch a glimpse of his nephew.

Her shoulders raised up in a shrug as Luna ran a hand through her long hair. “Where else? Probably stuck to the computer or his phone again.”

Noting the hint of frustration mixed with resignation in her tone, Harry patted her shoulder. “Want me to talk with him?”

She shook her head and flashed a weary smile. “Maybe later.”

Before he could ask anything further, a young voice with a playful edge rang out in the room, followed by light footsteps padding down the staircase. “Did someone call me just now?”

“Dinner’s ready, Shawn,” Luna called out before heading back to the kitchen when she heard the oven ding.

Harry watched as a mop of black hair peeped out of the stairwell. At the sight of his nephew’s impish smile, Harry chuckled. “Were you eavesdropping just now?”

The lanky teen skipped the last few steps and landed on the floor with a loud thump. He ambled towards Harry and dropped into the chair across from him. A wide grin still splitting his lips, he grabbed a fork and poked at the vegetables on one of the dishes. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. Just happened to listen in.”

Shaking his head, Harry sighed and pulled out a chair before settling down on it. He regarded his nephew with an affectionate look. It was hard to dislike Shawn with his winning smile and sweet words. But the teen was difficult to handle at times since he feared no one, not even his mother. 

Fear was like a double-edged sword - destructive if used wrongly, but sometimes needed to guide someone back on the right path. Harry’s stomach curled at the memory of being whipped to within an inch of his life. Pushing the thought away, he focused his attention on Shawn instead.

“So you heard what your mum said about you being too addicted to your phone?” he said gently, without directly admonishing Shawn. He knew that didn’t work on the kid.

Shawn gave a careless shrug, one hand already digging into his shorts pocket for his phone. It was as if the phone was a magnet that sucked the kid’s hand to it. Harry always wondered what young people nowadays were doing on their smart gadgets the entire time. Facebook? Games? His eyes would tire of looking at the screen after more than an hour. Maybe he was getting old.

“I heard you guys talking about the new art teacher though. Who’s she?” Shawn asked, even as his eyes flitted over the screen of his smartphone.

Watching Shawn’s fingers fly over the small device, Harry could understand his sister’s frustration and despair. He wished there was a better way of telling the teen that there was a lot more to life than what was on that small screen. But for now, he let it slip.

“She’s an old friend of mine. She’s a singer now, maybe you’ve heard of her?” he said.

Shawn quirked an eyebrow and he looked up from his screen. “Oh wait. You mean that small-time singer who’s from here? She’s the new art teacher?”

A little indignant, Harry cleared his throat. “Her album did pretty well actually. It got featured many times on the radio, you know.”

Shawn simpered as a grin crept across his features. “So you really do like her, Uncle Harry.”

Red erupted across Harry’s cheeks and he launched forward in his seat, ready to protest. But before he could deny it, Shawn added, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our secret.”

Deflating, Harry sank back in his chair and massaged his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. “You really are incorrigible, Shawn.”

The young teen laughed and returned his attention back to the screen. His agile fingers danced across the keypad as he typed out a quick tweet to his followers.

**Breaking news! Guess who our new art teacher is?? This lady:  
http://the-songstress-hermione.com**

The second his thumb hit “Send”, a notification popped up on hundreds of people’s feeds. Many of Shawn’s friends and classmates replied almost instantly with emojis and short texts, all newly discovering who this Hermione personality was.

But one person, in particular, had a vastly different response. After the small pop-up had materialized on his computer screen, tears sprung to his eyes. He lunged for the monitor, his trembling fingers reaching out to caress the thumbnail of Hermione. He whispered lovingly to the smiling picture of her.

“I know where you are now, my goddess.”


	7. Screen Distractions 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione starts her job at her old school and is given a warm welcome by her childhood friend, Tonks, and her husband, Lupin. But one welcoming party is perhaps too "warm" in his reception. How do you find the new characters? :D
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

**May 11 202X**  


_**09:13**  
@modthebod: @all I’ve got confirmed news. Hermione’s doing part-time teaching in some small town. Here’s the pic._

_@mr-drake: goddamn I’m hot for teacher, man. she makes me wanna go back to school. if i coulda, i’d go to that school and pretend to be her student just for a peek of that ass._

_@herm4ever: ?!?! She’s teaching?! Holy shit, I never imagined that. What’s she doing there anyway? Is she like on hiatus? Not coming back? I’m like filled with questions._

_**09:17**  
@modthebod: I don’t know yet. So far_

_**09:19**  
@mr-drake: ?_

_**09:20**  
@herm4ever: hey @modthebod? You were saying?_

_**10:02**  
@modthebod: Shit sorry. Couldn’t check phone. I was going to say so far it seems like she’s going to be there for at least a month. I’ll keep you guys informed. Gotta run._

~ ~ ~

“She’s starting today, right? Hermione?”

“Yeah.” Sitting in the driver’s seat, Tonks nodded. “I got a text from her last night saying that she’s settled in.”

“That’s good.” Lupin flashed his wife a smile as he rummaged through his briefcase to check that he had all his papers. 

Watching him from the corner of her eyes, Tonks chuckled and shook her head. “Lupin, everything is in there. I saw you pack it this morning.”

Lupin shut his briefcase with a click and placed it on the floor, sandwiched between his black boat shoes. He gave Tonks an adoring look and leaned over to peck her on her cheek. “What would I do without you?”

A grin spread across her face and she gave him a light punch on his shoulder. “Oh stop it.”

Settling back in his seat, Lupin swept his bangs back from his boyish face. “So this Hermione. You guys go quite a way back, right?”

“Yeah, since we were 10 actually.” She hummed as she reached for the cup of coffee sitting in the holder, careful not to let it stain her immaculate white dress shirt and black pants. “We haven’t been in touch for a while but we used to be close back then.”

Lupin rolled up the sleeves of his henley shirt and propped his elbow on the car window. He studied Tonks. “How’s she like?”

She turned her head and gave him a look that said ‘Not again’. But when he turned on his disarming smile coupled with what she called was his irresistible dimples, she sighed and gave in. “Hermione’s… a mixed bag.”

“In what sense?”

“When I first knew her, she was the kind of girl that didn’t get noticed. Quiet, kinda geeky, but happy, I guess. After she and her mum moved out to her current place, she grew more withdrawn.”

Tonks rubbed the back of her neck and Lupin noticed the troubled look on her face. “Then she started blossoming and guys began to pay attention to her. She did a complete hundred and eighty turn after that. That’s when we grew apart.”

She turned to look at Lupin. “You’ll see what I mean when you see her.”

He smiled and ruffled her short pixie cut hair. “Hey, it’ll be fine.”

“In the worst case, you can always send her to me for counseling,” he added in a light, joking tone.

Tonks let out a bubbly laugh as the tension in her body was released. The school was coming up to the right and as she eased the old family car into the compound, she regarded her husband with a warm expression. “Thanks, honey.”

Lupin squeezed her shoulder in response before looking out the windshield to the school courtyard. Throngs of children were streaming through the front gates and into the white single-storeyed building. His observant eyes traveled over the multitude of uniformed girls and boys until it reached a tall, slim woman standing at the entrance.

The woman was wearing a tight pencil skirt and a peach blouse that hugged her figure, exposing a little cleavage in the process. Long, wavy hair complimented her oval face and full lips. It was no wonder that the older boys were ogling her as they walked past.

“Is that Hermione?” he asked.

Tonks looked up from parking the car and pulled the brakes. One glance at the woman and she chuckled. “Yes, that’s her alright.” 

“Well, let’s go welcome our new art teacher then.” Lupin winked at Tonks as she cut the engine.

As they got out of the car, the woman known as Hermione noticed them and waved. She walked - or maybe it was more accurate to say sashayed - over, which Lupin noted, seemed to be a practiced gait.

“Tonks! It’s been so long,” she exclaimed as the two women embraced.

“You look too glamorous to be a teacher, Hermione,” Tonks teased and the two of them burst into laughter.

Once the giggles died down, Hermione assumed a serious expression. “Honestly though, thank you so much for taking me on part-time, Tonks. I owe you a lot.”

A warm smile made its way across Tonks’s lips and she cupped Hermione’s hands in hers. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Now come, let me introduce you to my husband, Lupin,” she remarked.

Lupin stepped forward and offered his hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Hermione.”

“Oh my, what a handsome catch.” Hermione gasped as she shook his hand firmly. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Lupin.”

Chuckling, Tonks shook her head in disapproval. “Flirting as always, Hermione. Lupin’s our school counsellor, so you’ll see him around.”

“Meanwhile,” Tonks said as she gestured to the school building. “Let’s get you settled in.”

“Sure! I’m excited to see what has changed,” Hermione enthused and followed Tonks up the steps leading to the main entrance, although not before flashing a sweet smile at Lupin.

As he followed the two women into the building, Lupin watched his wife point out the major changes to the school to Hermione. He kept a close distance, observing their interactions. Everything from their body language to the tone of their voices. He noticed Hermione’s fleeting gaze over the sea of bodies, her occasional touch of Tonks’s elbow and back, and her lilting laugh at every little thing that Tonks said.

Practiced. That’s how he would describe Hermione’s behavior. And that was probably why Tonks had drifted apart from her years back. The two women couldn’t be more different, with Tonks being an extremely direct and no-nonsense type. Lupin allowed himself a little smile as he remembered how his wife’s straightforward confession to him had brought them together. 

“And this is the new staff room.”

Tonks’s voice broke through his thoughts and Lupin looked up to see them stopped outside the newly renovated offices. Most of the teachers were already in, so as they entered through the glass door, they were greeted by sprinkles of laughter amidst low murmurs. 

Tonks introduced Hermione to her colleagues and Lupin noted once again, the same toothy smile Hermione had flashed him earlier. Somehow she was able to inject sincerity into her expression, and combined with her bubbly personality, both male and female teachers were easily won over by Hermione. 

The introductions were just finished when a dry, hacking cough interrupted Tonks mid-way through her speech. All heads turned to see a towering man with broad shoulders entering the office. Dressed in a wrinkled shirt that was only half-tucked in, his left hand clutched a pack of cigarettes which he stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. He wore the angry, confrontational expression of a gangster but when his fiery gaze landed on Hermione, it morphed into a lecherous grin.

Lupin gulped nervously and prayed nothing untoward happen on Hermione’s first day. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Tonks’s shoulders stiffen as she regarded the male teacher. Her smile was forced as she beckoned him over.

“Fenrir, meet our new art teacher, Hermione.” Tonks’s professional tone hid a chilly undercurrent.

As Hermione wore her practiced smile and introduced herself, the male teacher cupped their hands in his. 

“It’s a pleasure to have such a beautiful lady in our midst,” Fenrir drawled as his thumb traced circles on the back of her hand. “I would love to take you around town sometime.”

Lupin caught a flicker of discomfort in Hermione’s eyes as her smile wavered. Before Fenrir could make any more advances, Lupin placed his hand on Hermione’s wrist and firmly extracted her from the handshake. “Thanks for the thought, Fenrir. I think Tonks needs to take Hermione through some administrative matters now.”

A scowl distorted Fenrir’s face and he glared daggers at Lupin. 

Tonks’s sharp voice cut through the tense air. “Don’t you have a class to get to soon, Fenrir? I don’t want to hear complaints about you being late again.”

Fenrir shot Tonks a dirty look before turning to leave, grumbling under his breath as he stalked off to his desk. 

“Sorry about that,” Lupin said. “Try to ignore Fenrir. That’s the best way to deal with his kind.”

“Thank you,” Hermione murmured in appreciation. She folded her arms tightly together, her hand that was trapped in Fenrir’s handshake pressed closely to her chest.

Tonks stepped closer to Hermione and ran a hand up and down her back. “If Fenrir tries anything, tell me immediately, alright?”

Nodding her acknowledgement, Hermione gave a little smile. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Good.” Tonks wrapped her arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “Come then. I still have to run you through some things before you start.”

The two ladies bid farewell to Lupin before exiting the staff offices. As he watched them leave, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling of dread that more trouble was to come. God he hoped he was wrong.


	8. Screen Distractions 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking through her first day teaching at her old school, Hermione recalls a few interesting students - one of whom is connected to her past. But maybe it's not a good idea to do that when you're driving. ;)
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

Jazz music blasted from the radio, beating a steady rhythm through the car. Hermione tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music as she drove back home. The upbeat tune worked magic in relieving her stress and exhaustion of the day. 

Reliving the memories of the day, Hermione sighed when she thought about her class. She had been a ball of anxiety walking into the classroom, wondering whether the kids would be difficult to handle. It turned out better than expected, thank goodness.

Though they were teens and supposed to be in their rebellious phase, she had been pleasantly surprised to see a number of them who were eager to learn. Of course there were the more trying ones - rowdy jokers, distracted chatterboxers. And then there was this girl, Valerie.

Hermione’s lips drew into a thin line as she recalled the young teen whose natural expression resembled a brooding and nasty… bitch, for the lack of a better word. From the start of the class, Valerie had been hostile towards her. Several times within the course of her teaching, the young girl had snickered or thrown odd questions her way. 

If not for her self-restraint, Hermione probably would have snapped at the girl. But it wasn’t just Valerie’s lack of respect for authority that rubbed her the wrong way. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she bit her lips. When she looked at Valerie, she felt like she was looking at a younger version of herself. 

The way Valerie expressed herself was different from Hermione but it took a rebellious spirit to recognize another one. Valerie had the same afflictions - a craving for attention, strong self-preservation instinct, and a lack of trust.

The uncanny resemblance made her chest seize up and Hermione had to remind herself to breathe. Better not to dwell on that girl.

She shook her head and refocused her mind. Another name drifted into her consciousness. 

Tom.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. When she had seen his surname on the roster, her throat dried up and her heart seemed to plummet to the floor. Filled with a mixture of dread and anticipation, she had looked up from the attendance sheet to see a lanky boy timidly raising his hand. 

He didn’t look much like his father, but the haunted look in his eyes and the soft features of his face was so reminiscent of him. Old, buried feelings bubbled up in her and she had to stop herself from calling out to him. During class, she tried not to stare at the boy but her gaze inadvertently traveled to where he sat. 

She had managed to keep herself together and not dwell on the past but now, outside the confines of school, Hermione allowed herself to be pulled back into her memories. As she meandered down the empty road, the dull countryside scenery melted into images of her teenage years. Images of a young Hermione laughing along with her best friend, Lynn, and a rugged, bad-boy version of Tom. 

A wistful smile spread across her face. Those times were blissful and carefree, without the burden of adulthood, its responsibilities and crimes. After she had left for a better future, she had not contacted Lynn and Draco, and those joyful days had melted into nothing but a memory. 

Seeing their child in her class brought forth a longing that she never realized existed in her. A longing to reconnect with her once good friends. Maybe it was time to give them a call now that she was back in town.

Hermione reached for her phone, her eyes flitting away from the windscreen. A sharp honk blared and her head snapped up just in time to see her car drifting away from the lane and into the path of an incoming police car-


	9. Screen Distractions 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marsha and Harry avoid a car accident. Returning to the police station, they view a scandalous video about Hermione and Harry finds an ominous comment on the video. Feel free to comment! :D
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

“Fucking shit!” Marsha cursed as she slammed her palm onto the car horn. 

The red car that was swaying dangerously into the lane immediately corrected course. Without stopping, it zoomed past Marsha but not before the policewoman caught a glimpse of its only inhabitant.

Rattled and furious, she hit her pudgy fist on the steering wheel and spun the police car around. The wheels screeched on the tarmac, kicking up dust as it did. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” Harry exclaimed from the passenger seat as he held the car grab handle.

“What else?! I’m going to charge that Hermione with reckless driving.”

Harry whipped his head out the window to see Hermione’s red car in the distance speeding away from them. He looked back at his partner, her eyes wide and face smudged with red. Gulping, he searched for an excuse to stop Marsha from confronting Hermione.

“Wait! Don’t we need to go back to the station though?” Harry grasped at straws.

Marsha punched the accelerator as she shifted into gear. “That can wait.”

“But,” he sputtered. “There’s no way we can catch up with her at this rate. I mean.. What about I give her a ticket and a dressing down later?”

“Anyway, she’s new in town and it’s not nice to start on such a bad note right? Well, I mean I’ll still charge her later but-”

His rambling was cut short by an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I’ll let her go this time.”

Harry stared in disbelief at Marsha. “R-really?”

“Yes, yes. I heard from Luna about you and Hermione. So I’ll let this one go,” she grumbled. “But this is the only time, you hear me?”

A grin split his cheeks and he nodded. “Absolutely. Thanks a bunch.”

Settling back in his seat as Marsha turned the car round again, he realized what she had just said. “Wait. Luna told you about what??”

“About your little crush on Hermione.”

“I- what?” Harry scoffed even as his cheeks were stained pink. “No, that’s not- I mean, it’s not true.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Marsha winked.

She chuckled as Harry groaned but a solemnity creeped into her tone. “But be careful, Harry. Those people in the entertainment business can’t be trusted.”

Puzzled, Harry quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s a well-known fact that those who enter the entertainment biz need to sleep around to achieve fame.” Marsha scoffed as she took the corner more sharply than usual. “Besides, they always have to deal with the press. So they’re good at spinning their words.”

“They’re fucking good liars, that’s what they are,” she spat.

Harry remained silent as he observed the dark cloud that descended on his partner’s expression. He had never seen her so judgmental to the point of being irrational. The furious intensity of her gaze as she watched the road was, frankly, unnerving. He shifted in his seat as trees whipped past his sight.

Trying to steer the conversation towards a lighter tone, Harry gave a nervous laugh. “What if Percy were to tell you that he wanted to be a singer or something?”

A derisive snort erupted from the pudgy woman. “I would set him straight. No son of mine is going down that path to be a nobody.”

Marsha turned to him with a stern look. “Percy would be dead meat if he came to me with that.”

Locked into place by her gaze, his heart dropped to his stomach. That hint of danger in her tone carried a sense of familiarity and he forced down the building anxiety in his chest. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

The sharp ringing tone of his phone broke through the heavy air in the car and he welcomed the distraction instantly. Fumbling the device out of his pants pocket, he thumbed the green button. “Harry here.”

He kept his gaze strictly out the windscreen as he listened to the caller on the other end. The unending greenery had been replaced by brick buildings and paved roads. Cars passed them by and traffic slowed to a stop at a red light junction. As Marsha tapped on the brakes, he finished up his conversation and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“They found out who posted the vulgar video online,” he told Marsha. “Turns out it was the Valerie kid.”

The traffic light flashed green. Marsha scoffed as she put the car in gear and zoomed down the straight road. “Last time, when you didn’t like someone, you would throw eggs at their car or smash their window. Now, it’s making videos?? I don’t see how that hurts someone.”

Inwardly relieved that the conversation had changed course, Harry relaxed in his seat and shrugged. “It’s a different era now though. What happens in the cyber world actually impacts people in real life. There’s cyber bullying and what not.”

Thickset lines appeared on Marsha’s forehead as she frowned. “All those stuff on the computer isn’t real. People are just too sensitive and now we law enforcement have to deal with so-called bad or illegal digital behavior. It’s just a waste of our resources.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue but after a moment’s hesitation, decided not to pursue the topic. Besides, they were now pulling into the police station car park and it would take too long to even enlighten Marsha about social media.

He settled for a simple “Let’s see what kind of video Valerie posted.”

By the time they were out of the car and walking up the steps to the station, the front door was slammed open and a young girl in uniform stalked out. Half of her shirt was untucked, and her skirt rode up to her thighs. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, exposing her distinct cheekbones. Harry recognized the scowling face instantly and he called out to her. “Valerie-”

The girl brushed past him, ignoring his greeting, and threw a glare at Marsha before running to the car park. Harry watched as she got into a car - her father’s one, he believed - and sped off. 

Marsha clicked her tongue. “How did her parents even teach her.”

It wasn’t a question so much as a statement. Choosing to remain silent, Harry followed her into the station. They approached the front desk where their colleague, a tired-looking middle-aged man, barely looked up before saying “You missed her. She just left.”

“We know. Just bumped into her outside.” Marsha threw a thumb at the front door. “So what happened?”

Brushing a hand through his thinning hair, he sighed. “Someone made an anonymous report about slander. We traced who posted the video and then called Valerie in. Since it’s her first offense, we just let her off with a warning. Of course she has to take down the video from the Internet.”

“Can we take a look at the video?” Harry asked.

“Sure.” Taking out a tablet, the policeman flipped the cover open and pushed it towards Harry. “Just pass it back when you’re done.”

“Thanks.”

Harry propped the tablet up. A Youtube video with the title “Slutty Art Teacher” covered the entire screen. Grimacing, he tapped the Play button.

Hermione popped up on screen, holding a book, with her back to the camera. As she wrote on the whiteboard, the camera zoomed in on her ass. An upbeat rap song about sex played in the background and when Hermione turned to face the class, the camera zoomed out and the words mouthed by Hermione seemed to coincide with the rap lyrics. The camera zoomed in and out on her breasts, in time with the rap beat until the song ended.

When the video ended, Marsha snorted. “Instead of studying, Valerie had the time to put this video together. Gotta give it to the kids nowadays for wasting their time on completely useless things.”

“I’m going to grab coffee.” She thumped her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Catch you later.”

Harry nodded before turning his attention back to the tablet. His stomach churned at the vulgarity of the video clip and he hoped Hermione had not seen it before it was taken down. It would be terrible for her to see herself portrayed in such a sexual manner, not to mention other people viewing and commenting on her. 

Curious now to see what other people had said, Harry scrolled down to look at the comments on the video. Most of it were obscene remarks about Hermione’s body and he grimaced at some of the descriptions of what the anonymous commenters would like to do to her. He knew that all those commenters were just boasting or fantasizing and that their “planned” actions were no real than a fart. Even Valerie’s act of filming, editing, and posting the video was more a sign of rebellion against authority and solely intended to cause embarrassment.

But it was a comment from someone called “theHermionebod” that sent chills down his spine. It read:

_Hermione belongs to me and only me. You will pay for posting this video._


	10. Virtual Takeover 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin has a counselling session with Kyler, Valerie's younger sister. He's optimistic that these teenagers can be helped but that optimism may be misplaced. 
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

**May 13 202X**

  
_  
**23:22**  
@kai has joined the server._

_**23:30**  
@mr-drake: fresh meat, man. yo @kai, you a fan of Hermione?_

_@modthebod: Welcome @kai. Before you join us, you have to tell us how you found out about Hermione and why you are her fan. Then I’ll give you member rights._

_**23:32**  
@kai: I saw her in person. Liked her fashion sense. She seemed cool, so checked her out. Turns out she was a singer, part-time model. Loved her pics._

_@herm4ever: Yay new people! Welcome @kai!! Your profile pic is like so cool. You’re gonna love it in here!_

_**23:35**  
@modthebod: Ok. Granted you rights @kai. Only rules here are no insulting of Hermione, no claiming of Hermione, and whatever I say goes._

_@kai: Got it. Thanks._

_@mr-drake: welcoming your new ass with the customary Hermione wave gif. enjoy_  


~ ~ ~

Clearing his throat, Lupin regarded the young girl seated across from him over his owl-rimmed glasses. Hunched over in her seat with her hands in her lap, she avoided eye contact with him. Lupin smiled at her and closed the file in his hand, pushing it to one side of the table.

“How have you been, Kyler?” he asked.

The girl shrugged and mumbled, “Normal.”

“I see.” Lupin clasped his hands together and leaned back in his armchair. “Doing okay in your school work?”

Kyler nodded.

He knew that of course. All her teachers reported that she had excellent grades, was hardworking and diligent, and caused no trouble in class. She was the perfect student. Dressed immaculately and completely inline with the school’s dress code unlike other students who toed the line with short skirts and rolled-up sleeves, always punctual for class, and never broken any rules.

But that level of perfection hid an undercurrent of bottled emotions and unfulfilled desires. And he knew the clue to slowly opening her up to him.

“Written any poems recently?”

Kyler lifted her head just an inch, revealing soft, round eyes. Her lips curved upwards in a smile and she said in a soft voice, “Yes. Do you w-want to read it?”

“I would love to.” Lupin leaned forward as Kyler slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirt and fished out a neatly folded piece of paper.

He accepted the paper and smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Kyler.”

She huddled back in her seat while he unfolded the paper and held it close to his eyes. On the white sheet were five lines, written in beautiful cursive.

_the bond of blood  
over time  
dilutes, yet  
strings of bits  
strengthens_

“It’s beautiful, Kyler. This is my favorite one so far,” Lupin commented as he handed back the paper.

He watched as the blushing girl murmured her thanks and carefully folded the sheet of paper before placing it in her pocket. Reading her poetry was akin to a glimpse of her emotions, her thoughts. Twelve words told him ample.

“Why don’t you show your poem to your sister?” he gently probed.

Kyler stiffened and she lowered her head, her straight shoulder-length hair and bangs covering her face like a curtain. “I tried.”

“And?” 

She wrung her hands in her lap and remained silent. Lupin waited patiently until she let out a short breath and said quietly, “Valerie was busy on her phone.”

Bitterness laced her tone. “She didn’t even look at it.”

Sighing inwardly, Lupin made a mental note to try and get Valerie into one of his counseling sessions. “How about showing it to other people? Like your friends?”

Kyler perked up and nodded, a sweet expression adorning her face. “I did. They liked it. One of them even suggested I submit it for publishing. B-but I don’t think I will. It’s not that good… I think.”

Pleasantly surprised at how talkative she turned, Lupin chuckled. “I agree with them. Maybe you can try submitting it somewhere.”

“I-I don’t know,” she murmured and looked away as pink dusted her cheeks.

“So are your friends from our school too?” he asked.

Kyler shook her head. “No. I don’t know where they are from.”

Brow lifting in puzzlement, he thumbed his chin. “Oh. How did you get to know them?”

“Online chat forums.”

Lupin frowned, crossing his legs as he ruminated on what she had said. He wasn’t comfortable with someone as vulnerable as Kyler spending time with anonymous strangers online. And from what she had just said, she seemed close to them - possibly even trusted them. He wanted to cut her off from dangerous contact as early as possible but if he simply said that out loud, she would not be receptive to the idea.

Instead, he took a different direction. “Do you have any friends in real life then?”

She dropped her gaze and shifted in her seat. “Just one.”

“That’s good,” he encouraged her. “Who is it, if I may ask?”

Kyler bit her lips before replying, “R-Tom. From my class.”

Tom. Lupin noted the name and reminded himself to check this person out after his sessions. “Have you shown Tom the poem?”

Her eyes widened and her fingers tightened into a ball on her lap. Red bloomed on her cheeks as she shook her head vigorously. “N-no. It’s a bit.. embarrassing?”

The young girl’s reaction was so obvious that Lupin had to hold back his laughter. Seeing such youthful love warmed his heart. He was glad that there was at least someone real in her life that she could talk to, even if she hadn’t shown that person her poetry yet. 

There was hope for her, still.


	11. Virtual Takeover 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione visits her old friends, Lynn and Draco, for dinner. Rekindled emotions soothe her heart, but not for long. 
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

Hermione scrutinized her reflection in the car’s rear-view mirror, checking her makeup and hair. She bit her lip and exhaled softly. It was just a dinner, she reminded herself. Yet her heart thumped ferociously in her chest, betraying her inner feelings. 

She took one more look in the mirror, smoothed the wrinkles in her flowery skirt, and killed the car engine. Dumping the car keys into her clutch bag, she got out of the car and crossed the road to the quaint little yellow house at the corner of the small neighborhood. 

The gate was open in anticipation of her arrival, so she strolled right through, admiring the vibrant flowers in the garden as she did. She came to a stop at the front door, taking a deep breath as she tugged on the long sleeves of her colorful blouse. Feeling much like a young girl on her first date, she puffed out her cheeks before assuming her practiced smile.

Her hand reached out and pressed the doorbell once. She heard the melody reverberate through the house and shortly after, the door opened to reveal a tall, slim boy dressed in a checkered shirt and jeans.

“Tom,” she exclaimed. “Wow all dressed up to impress, are you?”

The teen blushed, his eyes flitting away as he beckoned her in. “Come in, Ms Hermione.”

Chuckling, she entered the house, taking in the simplicity of the decor and the multiple owl figurines. Looks like Lynn still liked collecting owl-related decorations. Down the hallway traveled sounds of cutlery and banging appliances. 

“My mum’s in the kitchen,” Tom said. “You can head right down if you want.”

Hermione smiled at the teen who averted her gaze. “Thank you, Tom.”

She headed down the hallway after hanging her bag on the rack, and popped her head into the kitchen. Minding the stove was a petite woman, hair swept back with a cloth, an apron covering her sweat pants. 

“Lynn!” Hermione called out.

The woman turned, a spatula in hand. Upon seeing Hermione, her lips parted into a wide smile and she placed the spatula down. She rushed towards her and the two women embraced.

“Oh Hermione, it’s so nice to see you again after all these years,” Lynn exclaimed. 

As they broke the embrace, Lynn cupped Hermione’s cheeks in her hands, her eyes taking in all the details and contours of her childhood friend’s face. “You’re still so beautiful, Hermione. I’ve missed you.”

Hermione ran a hand through Lynn’s hair and removed the cloth, letting her friend’s shoulder-length hair tumble down over her face. “So are you, Lynn. Look at you, cooking and all!”

“Yeah, can you imagine?” Lynn laughed as she turned back to the stove and switched it off. “We were delinquents before and now, you’re a teacher and I’m cooking!”

Leaning on the island counter, Hermione tossed her head back and chuckled. “Anything can happen in this world. Want my help?”

“Nope.” Lynn busied herself as she scooped out food onto the plates. “But you can help me set the table in the dining room.”

Hermione looked around, finding a set of plates and cutlery already laid on the counter. “Sure, where’s the dining room?”

“Through that door.” Lynn pointed towards the white door at the other end of the kitchen and grinned. “Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t count on it,” Hermione teased. She picked up the dishes and headed for the door. Her friend’s laughter echoed in the room as she left the kitchen.

The dining room was small, with a round table that seated four and a long landscape mirror behind it. Hermione laid the plates and cutlery down, humming as she did. A warm feeling engulfed her the moment she laid eyes on Lynn and she berated herself for not getting in touch with her best friend sooner.

It was nice seeing Lynn after so long. Yes, her friend’s dressing had gotten frumpier but that probably came with being a mother. She was still the same bubbly, energetic girl Hermione knew and that was enough for her.

“Hermione?”

Freezing at the sound of the familiar voice, Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. She gulped and moistened her lips. Turning around, her eyes settled on a well-built man in a simple white t-shirt and black jeans, his eyes sharp and intense. 

Just like the first time she laid eyes on him, he took her breath away. She had to remind herself that she hadn’t answered him yet. Breaking into a smile, she replied, “Draco! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

His lips twitched upward in a smile and she found herself yet again entranced by his looks. “Yeah, we were pleasantly surprised to hear you were back. Glad to have you home again.”

Draco’s warm expression made her melt and she gave a little sigh. “I missed you.” Realizing her mistake, she quickly added, “Both you and Lynn.”

A rumble of laughter came from Draco and he grinned. “Just like old times.”

Hermione relaxed and she echoed his words. 

“Just like old times.”


	12. Virtual Takeover 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing her old married friends quarrel stirs ugly thoughts in Hermione. Ooh boy~
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

To say that she liked Lynn’s cooking was an understatement. Hermione was mightily impressed with her friend’s prowess in the kitchen and a tad bit jealous, if she were to admit it. But either way, she thoroughly enjoyed the variety of dishes.

As she bit into the crispy skin of the chicken leg, she moaned in pleasure. “This is really too good, Lynn.”

Lynn giggled. “Eat here more often and you’ll put on weight,” she teased.

“Draco, you’re lucky to have Lynn cook for you everyday,” Hermione said, her voice slightly muffled by the food in her mouth. 

She grinned at the man, fully expecting him to agree and voice his contentment. But when he returned her smile, she caught a flicker of anger in his eyes that brought on a chill in her bones.

“Today’s dinner is considered special actually.” Draco tossed a side glance at his wife. “Normally we have leftovers or sometimes, she doesn’t even cook.”

Hermione noted the undercurrent of tension in his voice and the unpleasant look that Lynn shot him at his remark. She swallowed heavily and quickly reached for the glass of water, downing it in one gulp.

Her eyes darted around the table, from Draco’s stern look to Lynn’s dark expression, and then to Tom. She couldn’t see his reaction from across the table given his bowed head. Perhaps fights like this between the couple were common enough to elicit such a response from him.

Deadly silence fell over the room like a blanket. Hermione shrank into her seat. Her chest tightened as she recalled the same feeling of being small and invisible in a stifling cold war. Desperate to escape the encroaching walls of nostalgia, she let out an unnatural and shrill laugh.

“Maybe I should come over more often then,” she joked in an effort to dispel the heavy atmosphere.

It took a second before Lynn recovered her cheery look first. “Yes, you should! We would love to have you over. Wouldn’t we, Draco?”

Shooting one last glare at Lynn, Draco turned his attention back to Hermione. He broke into a forced smile. “Yes, we would.”

Hermione returned his smile with one of her own, relieved that the silence was broken. Eager to continue conversation, she added, “Looks like Tom will have to see me at school and at home too. Hope you don’t mind, Tom.”

The teen barely even looked up at her words and Hermione wondered whether he had fallen asleep at the table. She laughed awkwardly. “I guess he doesn’t mind then.”

But Draco certainly minded. He fixed his son in a stern glare and rapped his fist on the table. Tom’s head shot up and his eyes widened upon seeing the look on Draco’s face.

“How many times must I tell you?! Put your phone away at the dining table!” Draco hollered as he wagged his finger at the teen.

Meeting Hermione’s gaze out of the corner of his eyes, Tom looked away hurriedly. Red splotches colored his cheeks as he glowered at his father. The fury that blazed in his eyes startled Hermione but then again, he inherited that from Draco. 

Guilty about pulling Tom into the conversation, she hurried to appease the situation. “It’s really okay, Draco. He’s still young-”

“That’s no excuse for such behavior,” Draco said sharply. “Especially in front of a guest.”

“You don’t need to scold him in front of a guest either,” Lynn cut in, her eyes narrowed at Draco. She reached over to place her hand over Tom’s clenched fist and spoke softly to her son.

Hermione couldn’t catch what she said but Tom simmered silently in rage before getting up and leaving the table. She felt bad for the young teen, especially since she had gotten him in trouble. But she felt helpless to do anything.

After she watched the teen stalk off to his room, she turned to Lynn with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

Lynn squeezed her hand in understanding and broke into a tired smile. “You don’t need to apologize, Hermione. It’s not your fault.”

Her lips curving downwards into a snarl, Lynn spat in Draco’s direction. “It’s his.”

Draco fumed and his lips parted to hurl accusatory words but when he caught Hermione’s anxious gaze, he took a deep breath. “Let’s… discuss this later, Lynn.”

The fight now temporarily halted, Hermione made quick haste to finish the dinner and leave their house. Lynn and Draco never exchanged a word, only speaking and throwing polite glances to Hermione until she left. 

Once she was out the door, Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. She had no doubt they would continue their heated conversation right now but she thanked God she wasn’t there to hear it. 

As she walked the short distance to her car, she reflected on the disastrous night. It had started off so well with Lynn and Draco - separately, she noted. But cracks had formed in their relationship and it had obviously taken a toll on their son too. Tom had always seemed like a docile kid to her but the intensity of his glare tonight had shown that he could be volatile too. 

It scared her, and it intrigued her as well. Much like how Draco’s rebellious attitude had attracted her to him. Catching herself before her old feelings took over, she reminded herself that her best friend was married to him and that their marriage was on the rocks. She was worried for Lynn and for Draco. As a friend, she should try to help them or at least, offer some comfort.

Yet deep down and buried in her heart, was a niggling feeling of happiness. A gleeful delight that the breaking marriage might present an opportunity for her.

Was it wrong of her to fantasize about that?


	13. Virtual Takeover 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes out for a drink with his good friend, Ron, and the two men moan about unrequited love, and machines taking over their jobs. ;P 
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

Loud dance music boomed in the small pub, drowning out the scatters of conversations. Working people and some college-level kids dominated the population. Most were dressed casually; some of the working stiffs were still in shirts but with loosened ties. Harry had already changed his uniform into loose-fitting pants and a checkered shirt. No point sticking out like a sore thumb and attracting attention, when all he wanted was a relaxing conversation to destress.

“Tell me honestly, Harry. Is it wrong of me to fantasize about Lynn?”

Harry paused, his lips brushing the rim of his beer mug. He regarded his half-drunk friend with concern and sighed. “It’s not exactly wrong.”

Across the table, his friend took another swig of his beer and belched. “It’s either a yes or a no. You’re with the police, so you should know.”

“Oh wait,” he paused before laughing. “I just rhymed!”

Harry placed his mug down and massaged his forehead between thumb and forefinger. “Ron..”

“Okay okay fine. I won’t ask.” Ron scowled, his thick lips pursed in a pout.

Harry watched as his childhood friend dug his fingers into the basket of fries and stuffed a few into his mouth. He noted that Ron had put on a little weight in recent months, but he had no heart to tell him that when he was drunk. Although his looks weren’t exactly a head turner, Ron still held some amount of friendly charisma that attracted quite a few ladies. But the single man had his heart set on Lynn for some time now, and even though Harry had tried to introduce other women to him, it had not worked out.

Well, then again, Harry reasoned morosely, he was one to talk. So as a good friend, he listened and soothed as best as he could.

Seeing that Ron was still sulking away - evident from the silence and the fact that he had just pulled his hoodie over his head to hide his sullen eyes, Harry tried to reinvigorate the conversation. “So what happened with Lynn? Obviously something did, since you’re asking me that question.”

Ron eyed him from under his hoodie as he munched on the fries. He took his time, licking his fingers and downing another gulp of beer, burping as he did. Then, he leaned back on the worn leather bar seat. 

“I bumped into her the other day,” he said. “She said she was going to take up a part-time job in the night.”

Harry lifted an eyebrow. “Money issues?”

Raising his hands, Ron shrugged. “I don’t really know. I mean, maybe it’s something to do with Draco’s job.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Ron leaned forward, placing his elbows on the wooden table as he did. He gestured conspiratorially to Harry and lowered his voice as he spoke. “Our company is investing more in automation. So grunts like me and Draco will be the first to get-” He drew a finger across his throat. “Laid off.”

Eyes widening, Harry’s grip on his mug tightened. Following his friend’s hushed tones, he whispered, “Is that just a rumor or something? I mean, they can’t do that… can they?”

“Oh they can,” Ron tossed back his mug and wiped the residual froth from his lips. “It’s just a matter of time really.”

Harry mulled over this piece of news as he swirled his finger over the condensation coating his mug. He never thought things like artificial intelligence and robots would ever infringe on people’s lives to such a devastating extent. And yet here it was, replacing people whose skills were outdated. Was a future like that in Terminator really inevitable?

“I doubt Draco will lose his job though.” Ron’s voice cut into his thoughts. 

“Why not?”

Bitterness seeped into Ron’s tone. “He and the boss are close. Draco’s son and the boss’s daughter are classmates. So yeah.”

Harry tipped back his mug to savor the last bit of beer. The bitterness warmed his throat, a stark contrast to the feelings that roiled in his stomach. The world was unfair, no matter what he did as a policeman to bring justice, and it made him feel helpless.

He tried to recall who Ron’s boss’s daughter was and then it hit him. “Ah! That would be Valerie’s sister right? The quiet, timid one.”

“Yeah,” Ron drawled. “The dull, studious one.”

That would make sense, Harry thought. Draco’s son was also the quiet type, so the two of them would fit together. 

“Are they like… together or something?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. They’re close, I think.”

Nodding, Harry stroked his chin. He could barely recall Valerie’s sister’s name, much less how she looked like. He only knew she was completely different from Valerie. Thinking about Valerie reminded him of that incident in the police station.

“Hey, Ron,” he addressed his friend by his nickname. “I just met that Valerie the other day actually. At the police station too, of all places.”

“Wow really?!” Ron gasped, his mouth open wide. “What did she do?”

“She made this scandalous video of Hermione and posted it online.”

Clicking his tongue, Ron shook his head in disapproval. “Kids nowadays. I don’t think her parents have any control on her.”

Harry crossed his arms on the table. “Probably not. She was always the wild kid.”

Ron took a few more fries and wagged them about like an adult telling a kid off. “Honestly that was her parents’ fault. They’re both workaholics - no time to spend on a kid. Let alone two.”

Harry frowned. “But look at her sister. She turned out fine, right?”

Ron chuckled as he shook his head. “She’s anything but fine. That girl’s an exploding time bomb, mark my words.”

Opening his mouth to protest, Harry thought better of it. He was too tired to get into an argument about parenting and wayward kids. Instead, he waved a hand in dismissal and laughed. “Fine. Anything you say, Ron. Let’s just drink away our troubles tonight, okay?”

Ron grinned and lifted his mug in a toast. “Sounds good!”

“What should we toast to?” Harry asked, his mug lifted high.

Ron hummed in thought. “To unrequited love?”

“Wha-what?” Rubbing the back of his neck, Harry blushed.

Snickering at his friend’s reaction, Ron teased. “Oh come on. You with Hermione, me with Lynn. Just say it, man!”

Harry’s lips lifted upwards in a sheepish grin and he snorted. “Fine, fine. You win this time.”

“To unrequited love!”


	14. Location Blips 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry receives a complaint from Rita about Hermione and uses the opportunity to ask her out on a date. Wish him luck!
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

**May 18 202X**

**13:48**  
 _@herm4ever: Ahh server’s been so dead these days.. Anything new, peeps?_

_@modthebod: Been busy with school work. Sucks._

**13:55**  
_@mr-drake: thank god i ain’t in school anymore. good luck, @modthebod_

_@modthebod: Thanks. Btw found this photo of Hermione. Enjoy, guys._

**13:57**  
_@herm4ever: Aww I feel ya, @modthebod. *hugs* And ooh boy Hermione looks so hot!_

_@mr-drake: yo check out that booty *whistles*_

**14:05**  
_@kai: Great skirt but not loving that top._

_@mr-drake: whoa are you the fashion police or what??_

_@kai: ? I can’t express my honest thoughts?_

**14:07**  
_@modthebod: @kai Please refrain from expressing criticism of Hermione. This is your first and only warning._

**14:09**  
_@kai: …. Whatever, fine._

~ ~ ~

As he drove, Harry bobbed his head to the country rock music blaring from the car speakers. He liked weekends, even when it was his shift. Weekends meant that Marsha would be at home, supervising Percy’s studies, and that implied he had the whole car to himself. So he could blast any music he liked without having to listen to Marsha’s complaints.

Weekends also tended to be more relaxing. Not today though. Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was too early in the morning to be dealing with complaints and house visits. 

Catching sight of the small signboard off the road, he flicked the turn signal and took a left. The car drifted down the road, past rows of houses and playing young children. Harry watched them wistfully. Give them a few more years and soon, they would be shuttling between extra classes, with their free time being occupied by a tiny mobile screen.

He shook his head and turned his attention to the plate numbers on each house. He was looking for number 12 which was further down the road. The neighborhood was not one he came to frequently, although in his younger days, he would often pop by. At the thought of those days, his cheeks flushed.

As house number 12 came into view, he sneaked a look past it. House number 13 sat right beside his destination. It looked almost the same as he remembered it - simple and dull. But it was the occupant inside that had his heart pumping like a house on fire. 

Harry took a sharp breath and killed the engine. As he got out of the car and strolled through the open gate of house 12, his mind wandered away from his duties. After all, he was right here, next to Hermione’s house. It would make sense to pop by and say hi, right?

No, that would make him seem like a creep. Harry brushed away his fantasies and rapped on the brown front door.

Hands held behind his back, he waited. Over the sound of shuffling inside the house, he heard the haunting tune of a piano. The melody drifted from the neighboring house - Hermione’s place. He smiled to himself, enjoying the music, and at the same time, excited to know she was at home after all.

The front door creaked open an inch and a pair of suspicious eyes stared at him over owl-rimmed glasses. Thin lips parting in a snarl, the old woman rasped, “What do you want?”

“Hi Rita,” Harry chirped. “Sorry to bother you but-”

“Then go away,” she snapped and made to shut the door in his face.

Before Rita could succeed in turning him away, Harry jammed a hand between the door and its frame, his fingers digging into the wood. He held it open and cracked a forced smile.

“Please, Rita. I need to speak to you,” he emphasized.

The old woman’s strength was no match for his and she gave up, letting the door swing wide open. She sighed in exasperation and crossed her arms in a defiant stance.

“Get on it with it then,” she grumbled as she leant on the door frame.

“Ah right.” Harry recomposed himself and cleared his throat. He clasped his hands at chest level, readorning a polite smile. “I’m here because we’ve received several complaints about the umm… noise level coming from your house at wee hours in the morning. I-”

“Oh those blithering fools,” Rita cut in as her hand moved to rest on her hip. “What have they to complain about when they are the ones who blast music and laugh so damn loudly and bring back guests! I’ll say I should be the one complainin-”

Holding a palm up to stop her tirade, Harry tried his best to keep his tone friendly yet authoritative. “I’m sorry about that, Rita. I know that must be frustrating for you but since it’s before midnight, we can’t do much about that. But if you’re having noise from your place past midnight, that would count as disturbing the neighborhood.”

The old woman’s cheeks puffed up and she wagged an accusing finger at him. “Now look here, the only reason I’m even making… _noise_ -” She emphasized the word, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “-is because they woke me up first! I’m a light sleeper and I’ve told them oh so many times about it.”

Harry felt the situation slipping out of his hands and he scrambled for a way to appease both sides. “Okay I understand your grievance, Rita. Maybe you can tell me what or who woke you up in the night, and then we can solve all of this.”

Rita huffed and glowered at him. She held her silence long enough for Harry to shift on his feet uncomfortably. When she was pleased that she held the higher ground, she deigned to give an answer. 

“It all started when that lady moved in next door.” She jerked a thumb at the house next door, house 13. 

Harry’s heart leapt into his throat and he swallowed hard. “What did she do to wake you up?”

The old woman scoffed. “Exactly what she’s doing now. Playing that goddamn piano and always repeating some awful tune over and over.”

Rita’s derisive tone scratched at Harry’s ears. The vein on his neck bulged and pulsed as he attempted to rein in his irritation. He managed a thin smile, his reply curt and minimally polite. “Got it. I’ll talk to her. Thank you for your time.”

His cool tone was not lost on Rita and she glared at him for a few seconds before hissing, “You’d better.”

When she slammed the door in his face, Harry finally let out a long breath. He stalked off her property, his smile morphing into a scowl. He cursed the old woman under his breath. It was no wonder her neighbors complained about her and not Hermione. Who would like that old bat anyway??

He slowed his pace as he neared house 13. Upon closer examination, the gate was closed but not locked. Harry pushed past it and slipped into the compound. As he walked up to the door, the tinkling sound of piano keys grew louder, calming his anger.

The thought of seeing Hermione relaxed the tension in his muscles and his lips curled upwards into a smile. He rapped on the door twice, the sound echoing through the house. The piano playing stopped and he heard her airy voice call out in a singsong manner.

Hurried footsteps approached. The front door swung open, revealing Hermione in a baggy tee and shorts, her hair tied back in a lazy ponytail. Upon seeing Harry, she broke into a big smile. “Oh Harry, it’s you!”

Harry grinned. “Sorry to drop in on you unannounced.”

“That’s fine.” Hermione waved him off. “So is this an official visit or..” Grinning conspiratorially, she threw him a wink that stained his cheeks pink.

“Ah right.” Harry bumbled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It is official actually.”

“Are you going to arrest me or something, Sergeant Harry?” Hermione teased, sticking her tongue out.

Laughing, Harry shook his head. “Nothing of that sort. It’s just that umm..”

He cleared his throat and assumed a more official tone. “Your neighbor complained of piano playing in the wee hours of the morning. So I’m sorry to have to tell you but it would be good for all parties if you refrained from doing that.”

Seeing her expression change into a blank look, Harry winced and quickly added, “I know it doesn’t sound fair to you - I mean it’s music and all. But some people might not find it pleasant. Not that I don’t- I mean I like your music and-”

“It’s Rita, right?” Hermione interrupted with a sigh, her shoulders slumping. She rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation. “I tried to play as softly as possible. Looks like it didn’t work.”

Harry grimaced. “No it didn’t. Maybe if you change your schedule a little..”

“I write my songs whenever inspiration strikes.” She explained as she folded her arms across her chest. “It just happens that I get them in the night, or when I’m asleep.”

“Oh.” Harry deflated, at a loss as to how he was going to solve this issue. His eyes darted to the ground in search for an answer that wasn’t there. At the sound of a light-hearted chuckle coming from Hermione, he looked up.

“Alright, alright,” She said behind a mouthful of giggles. “I’ll help you out here. I won’t play my music past midnight. That should solve your problem.”

His chest heaved as he expelled a long breath, whistling as he did. “Oh thank you, Hermione. You’ve no idea how much trouble you’ve saved me.”

“Well, how are you going to repay me for this favor?” Hermione cocked her head to one side, soft bangs covering her twinkling eyes. 

Harry’s eyes widened as color tainted his cheeks. “Umm.”

Damn. Here goes nothing.

“Would dinner and drinks be enough?” he blurted.

A grin tugged at her lips and she laughed, one hand cupping her mouth as she nodded. “Yes, that would be good.”

The young man broke into a wide-toothed smile and bounced on his feet. “Great! I’ll see you at the pub at 7?”

“See you at 7 then.” Hermione smiled.

Harry waved goodbye before she closed the door. He stood there for a moment longer, savoring the victorious feeling. Then, he turned around and strolled out of her front yard, closing the gate behind him as he left. His face was lit up like a thousand watts, exuding a warmth that matched the surface of the sun.

As he headed to his car, he felt like he was floating on cloud ten - fuck cloud nine. Buoyant and exuberant, there was nothing that could bring him down on this wonderful morning. Nothing at all.


	15. Location Blips 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds his nephew sneaking around Hermione's place with a camera and he's anything but pleased. Especially when he hears that Valerie has something to do with it.
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

Nothing could bring down his spirits… right?

Okay, maybe he had said that too soon.

Not far from Hermione’s home, Harry spotted a very familiar mop of black hair sticking out of the shrubbery. An eyebrow raised, he changed direction and broke into a jog towards the suspicious figure. As he neared, the black-haired person startled. Before he or she could run off, Harry clapped a hand on the stranger’s shoulder.

The stranger turned - to reveal a stunned Shawn holding a digital camera. His eyes were open wide like a deer in the headlights, reflecting what seemed to Harry like a mixture of guilt and fear.

“Shawn? What are you doing here? No extra classes today?” Harry asked, keeping his tone light but with a sharp edge.

The teen quickly recovered from his initial shock and got up from his crouched position. He dusted his jeans off and gave a plaintive shrug. “Nothing much. Just happened to be around the area.”

It was an obvious lie. But Harry kept his calm. He asked sarcastically, “So you happened to be around here with a camera?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“And you decided to kneel down behind bushes?”

Shawn nodded. “Tying my shoelaces. Not exactly a crime, is it?”

“No,” Harry scoffed. “If that’s the case then, I can take a look at that camera.”

Harry stretched a hand out and beckoned Shawn to hand over the device. The teen scowled at him and after a moment’s hesitation, slapped the camera into his waiting hand. 

“Thank you, Shawn.” Harry grinned.

From the corner of his eye, he watched his nephew sulk and scuff his sneakers on the ground. Something was definitely up.

He flicked the dial on the camera and the screen switched from a moving frame to a still picture of Hermione’s house. A chill ran down Harry’s back. His finger hit the back button. More stills of Hermione as she exited the house and some stills even had him in it.

His jaw taut, he turned his gaze back to Shawn. Anger laced his tone. “Are you stalking Hermione? Is that what this is?”

Shocked, Shawn threw his hands up in surrender. “No, no. This is not what it seems, Uncle Harry. I swear.”

Harry held the camera in one hand and lifted it up pointedly. “Explain what this is then.”

Shawn cupped his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Valerie put me up to it. She just wanted a picture of Hermione today.”

When Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief, Shawn hurriedly added, “I just got off some extra shots just in case I didn’t get what she wanted.”

“What does Valerie want with the pictures?”

“I don’t know.”

Harry fixed the teen in a stern glare.

“Really, I don’t, Uncle Harry,” Shawn pleaded, a ring of truth to his words.

Harry could tell his nephew wasn’t lying but that didn’t stop him from affixing him with an intense stare that unnerved the young teen. He let Shawn stew in discomfort for a few more seconds before asking, “Is this the first time Valerie has asked you to do this?”

Shawn bit his lips before answering quietly, “Second. First time was a few days back.”

Giving a curt nod, Harry ruminated on this sliver of information. He didn’t like this on several levels. Starting from the fact that Valerie seemed fixated on Hermione - in a bad way, and that she had enough of a hold on Shawn that he was helping her with it. Not to mention his disappointment with his nephew for not knowing right from wrong. And he wasn’t just going to let that slip.

“I have to tell you, Shawn,” he said. “I’m disappointed in you. You should know better than to stalk someone’s home and take pictures of them without permission. How could you not know right from wrong? I mean-”

“Who are you to tell me what I can or can’t do?!” Shawn retorted, his hands balled into fists at his side. 

Taken aback, Harry was at a loss for words. His lips parted but before he could get anything out, Shawn pressed on. 

“You’re not my father, Uncle Harry.” Shawn pointed an accusing finger at him. “Even my mum has no say in what I do, much less the likes of you.”

The young teen snarled. “So don’t you get all high on the moral ground with me.”

“Wait Shawn-” Harry started, his free hand reaching out to his nephew.

Shawn jerked away from him and spun on his heels, running down the road to where his bike was parked. Harry could only look on in stunned silence as the teen cycled away. 

What had just happened?


	16. Location Blips 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On her way to her date with Harry, Hermione has a chilling encounter.
> 
> Lesson to learn: Be aware of your surroundings when walking in a deserted area! ;)
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

Hermione hummed to herself as she pulled on a pair of wedge heels. She straightened, looked herself over in the mirror by the doorway, and fluffed her hair a little more to get that extra volume. Now she looked perfect.

Satisfied, she headed out the door, locking it behind her as she did. The pub wasn’t far from her house and given the beautiful weather - cool but not too chilly - she was inclined to take a scenic stroll. Maybe even listen to some accompanying music as she walked.

From her dainty cross-body bag, she fished out her wireless earbuds and tucked them snugly into her ear. As she locked the front gate, she reached into her shorts pocket and scrolled through her phone, pairing it to her earbuds and turning on her latest tunes.

The deep sound of a double bass filled her ears as she muttered the lyrics under her breath. Her heels clicked on the pavement in time with the rhythmic beat of the drums and she felt her heart lighten as the music took over her body.

Music was the one constant thing in her life that made her happy. Even if her choices to go down that path was fraught with disaster and heartbreak, it was the only thing she could turn to and know that it would never betray her.

Each chapter of her life was associated with a piece of music. Each memory, a song. As she walked past houses that resonated with laughter and raised voices, all she could hear was the electronic shredding of the guitar from her earbuds. It filled her with adrenaline and she pumped her legs faster until the urban neighborhood dissolved into beautiful countryside.

As if on cue, the music ended and switched to a soothing piece. Hermione relaxed her pace and took in the idyllic scenery. Birds chirped in the distance, their melody a nice complement to the tinkling piano keys that sounded in her ears. Seeing that no one was around, she skipped and did a little twirl on the empty sidewalk. 

Giggling, she felt free and away from prying eyes. No paparazzi, no reporters, no crazy fans. She should come back home more often to do this. Maybe churn out more songs this way too.

Soon the music came to a stop. She waited for her phone to shuffle the next song, eager for something more heart-pumping. But when the shrill whine of a violin pierced her ears, her breath caught in her throat. Flashes of a tall and skinny man shrouded in shadows burnt into her eyes. 

She hissed sharply and gulped for air. Why was this song still in her phone?? She could have sworn she had wiped it from memory. 

Never mind that. She stopped and dug into her bag with trembling fingers. No wait, it wasn’t in her bag. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes as she frantically tried to scramble her mind together. 

She pushed her hand into her shorts pocket, finding her phone. She fished it out and slammed her thumb down on the “Pause” button. Instantly, the chilling music came to an abrupt halt. 

A shaky breath escaped from her lips as her shoulders slumped. With the absence of the music, a deafening silence enveloped her. She looked up, suddenly aware of how quiet it was. There were no cars, no sound of civilization. The birds had stopped singing.

Hermione pulled the earbuds out and hurriedly stuffed it in the other pocket of her shorts. Her wide doe eyes flitted from left to right. The tall trees that lined both sides of the road suddenly seemed evil and menacing, boxing her in. She wanted to run - run as fast as she could - but her legs refused to budge.

Then a sudden stab of ice lanced through her. A chill spread down her back as she felt a pair of eyes roam down her body. Her hair raised on end at the invisible touch. A cold draft tickled her exposed skin and she shuddered involuntarily. A whimper broke from her lips.

Her head swiveled slowly to the back. Fearful eyes drifting down the road, it stopped on a male silhouette in the distance. Hermione’s breath hitched. The unknown man was slightly plump and standing stock still. Arms by his side, he seemed to be staring at her.

He unnerved her. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. Petrified, she watched helplessly as he walked towards her. He moved silently and with purpose, almost as if he were toying with her.

Her heart pounded furiously in her ribcage until all she could hear was her own heartbeat. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, trickling down her cheeks. She bit down hard on her trembling lip until she tasted the coppery tang of blood. 

Barely a few metres away from her, his silhouette caught the last glint of the sun through the gaps in the trees. A familiar face stared back at her and it took her several seconds to recall who he was. 

Sighing in relief, Hermione rubbed her chest to soothe her hammering heart. She could barely muster a smile under the now-sweaty texture of her skin. Using the back of her hand, she wiped the sheen off her forehead.

“Oh Percy.” She laughed shrilly, her nerves still in a wreck. “You scared me. You should have said something.”

The plump teen gave her a curt nod, his eyes hidden by the long bangs and not really meeting hers. “Sorry Ms Hermione.”

“Are you headed to town?”

“Yeah. My mum sent me on an errand.” He looked at his feet, his voice low.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt. Having recomposed herself, Hermione studied the awkward teen. She recalled him as being the odd one out in her class. Isolated and an outcast. She presumed the others picked on him too, given his demeanor.

Outside of class, it seemed he dressed more sloppily - with a sweat pants and slightly stained tee. She guessed he wasn’t the kind to care about appearances either way. Noticing him shuffle from one foot to another, she followed his gaze to her exposed thighs. Instinctively, she took a step back and slung her bag to the front to cover a little of her skin.

“Hey.” She brought his attention back to her face. “I guess you need to make a move?”

Percy’s eyes shot up and he nodded his agreement. He mumbled his goodbye, turning to walk past her. She watched him go and after a minute or so, reached into her pocket for her earbuds. Time to destress after that unnerving experience.

When she looked back up, Percy had stopped. She couldn’t see his eyes from that distance but she could feel his eyes on her. That same chill coursed through her veins as she felt his invasive touch on her skin. It burned her. She wrapped her arms across her chest, feeling exposed and vulnerable. 

But before she could say anything, he turned away and continued down the road. She shuddered as she saw his shadow disappear into the distance, glad that he was finally out of sight.

Pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead, she felt an oncoming headache. Was it possible for such a young boy to have such a malicious aura? She was reluctant to believe that. Maybe she had just imagined his lecherous gaze. He was only a teen, a shy and awkward one at that, she reasoned. Besides, she had just relived a bad memory and must have been more sensitive. 

Yes, that must be it. She shook off the nagging thoughts and pushed the earbuds into her ear. Time to refocus, drink herself silly, and enjoy her night with Harry.


	17. Location Blips 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's date is interrupted by Fenrir, and Harry confronts Fenrir. 
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

The night was still young, so the pub was not very packed. A few tables were occupied by office workers wanting to destress after a long day. Light country music blared from the speakers, accompanying the clink of glasses and raucous laughter.

Sitting across from Harry in the cosy corner booth, Hermione giggled as she sipped from her beer mug. “How long has it been since you were on a date?”

Harry shifted in his seat and combed a hand through his hair. “It’s been a while,” he chuckled nervously.

“Alcohol helps, you know,” Hermione said.

Harry eyed his full beer mug and contemplated downing it. Thinking better of it given the nervous fluttering in his stomach, he shook his head. “I’ll wait for the food first.”

Shrugging, Hermione took another sip. “Suit yourself.”

As if on cue, a waitress materialized in front of their table carrying their plates. She placed it down on the table, gave a quick smile and left after murmuring “Enjoy your food”.

Harry took a whiff of his burger and fries and a smile split his lips. It was cooked to perfection, just the way he liked it. He looked over to Hermione who was licking her lips at the sight of her chicken chop. He asked, “Does it look the same as before?”

She met his gaze and bobbed her head. “Exactly like how I remember it. I can’t wait to taste the meat! But before that..”

Hermione fished out her phone and aimed the camera at her plate. A white flash illuminated the table, followed by the sound of the shutter. 

Chuckling, Harry picked up his cutlery and stabbed a fry with his fork. “I didn’t know you were the kind to take pictures of your food. Mind if I start eating first?”

“Oh no go ahead. I just need to post this on my Insta.” Her gaze was on her phone as her fingers flew over the touch screen. “And…. done.”

Hermione plopped her phone down on the table next to her plate. “I only started taking food pics in recent years, I guess.”

She cut into her chicken chop and gracefully took a bite, her eyes shutting as she hummed in contentment. “Oh that is good. So juicy.”

“So what made you start taking pictures of food?” Harry said as he bit down into his burger.

“Professional reasons at first.” Hermione’s voice was muffled as she chewed.

“Professional?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed and dabbed at her lips with the napkin. “Times have changed. Celebrities need to be active on social media and show how they live. It makes them real to the fans.”

“Wow.” Harry’s eyes widened. “That sounds… tiring.”

Hermione gave a small shrug. “You get used to it after a while. I find it kind of fun.”

Licking his lips, Harry finished the last of his burger and turned his attention to the fries. He didn’t follow any celebrities, so he had no idea how things worked. But he did read the news. And he recalled how crazy fans could be. The internet only made it easier for them to stalk their idols.

“But wouldn’t that mean you have less privacy?” he pondered out loud. “I mean I assume fans would bother you online as well.”

He looked up from his food to see the slight downturn in the corner of Hermione’s lips. Realizing that he might have hit a nerve, he placed his fork down and reached for her hand on the table. 

Unaware of Harry’s gesture, Hermione brought her hand to her forehead and massaged it between her thumb and index finger. She gave a cynical laugh, her eyes not meeting his. “You have no idea how much shit goes on in the virtual world.”

Harry retracted his hand, watching as Hermione took a chug of her beer. A wave of pity washed over him. He wondered about what she had to go through all alone when she left for the city. Was she happy with the path she had chosen? Is that why she was back here now?

He opened his mouth to ask a deeper personal question but was cut short by a peal of laughter from Hermione.

“At least they know I’m not dead or in trouble now!” she chortled.

Smiling wryly, Harry speared the last few fries with his fork. He suspected she was merely joking to avoid more questions. Were he a closer friend of hers, he would press further. The thought brought on a tinge of sadness as he decided not to pursue the topic.

“How about you?” Hermione broke his reverie. “Are you active on Insta? Facebook? Twitter?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “None. No one would know if I were dead or alive, I guess.”

Hermione threw her head back as she laughed, one hand covering her mouth as she did. “Oh that’s a good one!”

Happy to see her enjoying herself, Harry broke into a grin. He lifted his still-full beer mug up high. “Want to toast now since I’m done eating?”

“Ah yes,” Hermione replied as she wiped away the tears of laughter that pooled at the corner of her eyes. “No better time. What should we toast to?”

“Hmm,” Harry thought for a moment. “To our meeting after so many years?”

“Sure!” She lifted her mug. “And to many more meetings.” 

Her eyes twinkled at him and he couldn’t help the flush creeping up his cheeks at her implied meaning. He grinned sheepishly and touched the side of her mug with his. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” She chugged down the remaining beer and put it down on the table with a satisfied “Ahh”.

He took three big gulps before putting his mug down as well. Seeing her empty mug, he gestured to it. “Want another one?”

“Sure,” she chirped.

Harry turned and lifted a hand to beckon the waitress over when he caught sight of a towering man at the entrance glowering in his direction. He frowned, looking around to see whether there were any other people that could be the target of such an intense glare. Most of the crowd were huddled closer to the bar and the nearest couple were seated two booths away. 

His gaze zipped back to the stranger. The two men locked sights and Harry gulped under the intensity of his unflinching glare. Everything about the man spelled trouble - from the bruise on his jaw and unkempt hair to his leather jacket and scruffed jeans. He seemed vaguely familiar, his name on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he couldn’t put a profile to that face.

Instinctively, Harry reached for the holster at his hip. His fingers touched air and he cursed inwardly. Of course he hadn’t brought it with him. He was off-duty, why would he bring a fucking gun to a date?

His eyes flickered to the cutlery on the table. Better to be armed just in case anything were to happen. The stranger was probably a local, but that didn’t mean a fight won’t break out. He slipped his hand over the knife handle and gripped it hard, readying himself.

Noticing the tense vibe and Harry’s odd actions, Hermione raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. “Something wrong?”

When she followed his gaze, she tensed. The piece of meat in her mouth suddenly tasted dry and she coughed as she swallowed it down. 

Harry’s attention shifted back to her. Seeing the fear in her eyes, his free hand reached over to squeeze her wrist. He kept his voice low and reassuring. “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. It’s probably just some… loser wanting to rant.”

Hermione shook her head vigorously, her eyes flitting from him to the stranger and back to him again. “I know that guy. He’s a teacher from the school.”

“Really?” Harry voiced incredulously. He watched the stranger start stalking towards them, all the while maintaining eye contact with him. He couldn’t tell if the man was packing some heat - his hands were tucked into the pockets of his oversized jacket.

“What does he want with us then?” Harry whispered, his eyes never leaving the man.

Hermione placed an elbow on the table, her hand cupping the side of her face in a failed attempt to hide herself from the stranger heading their way. Her voice held a slight tremor as she spoke. “I don’t know. He’s a damn pervert, that’s all I know.”

Shit. He had a feeling he knew who this guy was. There were complaints about harassment before, but he had never dealt with him before. He breathed in heavily and exhaled. Sparing a glance at Hermione, he gave a stiff smile. “Just remain calm and act normal. It’ll be fine.”

He turned his gaze back, just as the man reached their table. His grip tightened around the knife. 

“Look who we have here,” the man crooned, his gravelly voice causing the hairs on Harry’s arm to raise. “Hermione, fancy seeing you here with a young boy.”

The man’s emphasis on the word ‘boy’ had Harry clenching his jaw as he shot a glare at the tall stranger.

Hermione reluctantly placed the hand shielding her face down. She cleared her throat and turned to look at the man with a tight-lipped smile. “Fenrir, this is Harry. He’s a policeman.”

“Is he now?” The man called Fenrir sniggered and looked Harry up and down. “I don’t see his gun.”

Harry summoned his most menacing voice as he fixed Fenrir in a blistering stare. “I’m officially off-duty but that doesn’t mean I won’t enforce law and order where necessary.”

Laughing, Fenrir took his hands out of his pocket - causing Harry to lift the knife off the table - and held them up in mock surrender. “Hey chill, man. I’m not here for a fight.”

No gun. Harry relaxed a little. His hand lowered but he kept a firm grip on the knife. 

Fenrir tilted his head towards Hermione. “I just happened to know that Hermione was here.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. She stuttered, a hint of fear lacing her tone. “H-how did you find out where I was?”

A low chuckle rumbled from Fenrir’s throat. He dug a hand into his pocket and Harry tensed, bringing his knife closer and ready to strike.

As Fenrir slowly drew out the object in his pocket, Harry’s heart thumped furiously in his chest. Adrenaline surged through him as he prepared to lunge at the man. He may be smaller in size than Fenrir but his speed would at least catch the man off guard. 

The tip of the object came into view. Harry held his breath. The glint off the screen had him blinking his eye and it took him a second to realize it was only a phone. He sighed softly in relief.

Fenrir tapped on the screen of his phone and turned it to face Hermione. He wiggled it in front of her, taunting her. When she took a closer look, the color drained out of her face. Seeing her reaction, Fenrir sneered. “If you don’t want people knowing where you are, then don’t geotag your pictures.”

Harry sneaked a glance at the phone and recognized the picture of chicken chop that Hermione had snapped not more than thirty minutes ago. A surge of anger lanced through his body and he shot out of his seat, the metal legs of the table screeching against the floor as he did. 

He was a head shorter than Fenrir but that did not stop him from shoving his face into Fenrir’s. Furious eyes burnt into the lecherous man as he snarled. “For that, I can charge you with stalking. You won’t even be able to hold down a job in this town with another mark on your record, you hear me??”

Fenrir’s cheeks puffed out as he held back his anger, knowing better than to start a fight with the policeman. He continued the staring contest for a little longer to soothe his ego, and then nodded disparagingly. “You think you’re the boss here eh? Prove it then.”

When Harry didn’t back down, Fenrir deflated. His eyes flitted around to find an excuse and he gestured sweepingly at the bar. “Can’t I be here to grab a beer?”

The deadly silence that greeted him served as an answer and Fenrir took a step back in defeat. “Fine, whatever.”

His shifty eyes swiveled back to Hermione and he threw a smirk. “See you around, Hermione.”

Harry’s gaze never left Fenrir until the man had exited the pub. He huffed, ran a hand through his hair, and turned back towards their table. He plunked down into the seat and exhaled loudly. “Wow that was intense huh.”

When he looked up, the expression on Hermione’s face shocked him. Her face was pale, her eyes unblinking and unfocused. Her bottom lip trembled as she wrung her fingers in her lap. In an instant, she had transformed from a confident, sexy woman into a small, scared girl. 

“Hey it’s okay. He’s gone now,” Harry comforted as he reached out to touch her arm.

His fingers had barely skimmed her skin when Hermione recoiled in fear, a whimper escaping her lips. Hurt and worried by her reaction, Harry withdrew his hand and murmured an apology.

“I… I’m sorry, Harry. I have to head home now.” Hermione mumbled as she gathered her belongings and got up.

Hurriedly getting to his feet, Harry said, “Let me send you back. It’s not safe with Fenrir somewhere out there.”

Hermione barely nodded as she slung her bag across her shoulder and rushed towards the entrance. Before she could leave without him, Harry quickly took out his wallet, fished out a fifty dollar note and threw it on the table. He caught up to her before she walked off somewhere else and directed her back towards his car.

The drive back was blanketed by a total silence that hung over them like a giant rock boulder. He tried multiple times to start a conversation but all he could get out of her was a hum of acknowledgement. When he pulled up to her doorstep, she didn’t even look at him as she said “Thank you for the ride.”

He watched her enter her house and when the lights came on in the upstairs room, he finally let out a sigh of exasperation. So much for his date. More than that, he worried about Hermione. Fenrir was an ass, but her reaction to his advances were even more concerning. Although she wasn’t letting on much, he could tell she was hiding something. 

Something had traumatized her and he only wished he knew what it was.


	18. Periodic Pings 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin has a counselling session with Percy, who seems to be obsessed about someone. But he learns that someone else may be even more obsessed.
> 
> What do you think about Percy? Does public information really give people the right to stalk someone?
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

**May 21 202X**

_**12:02**  
@herm4ever: Guys guys! Did you see today’s news?? Hermione got mentioned. It’s that thing with the politician? Like from months back??_

_@mr-drake: that piece of old news? what kinda shit they say now? link pls_

_@herm4ever: Oh right lol. Forgot to send the link. Here you go: www.timestoday.com/politician-denies-allegations-with-singer-slut.html_

_**12:05**  
@mr-drake: man they calling all her sorts of shit. i kinda pity her. no wonder she ain’t in town anymore._

_@herm4ever: I know right?? *cries* And that politician isn’t helping things at all._

_**12:13**  
@kai: He’s covering his ass, protecting his job. Is it true though? About their affair?_

_@herm4ever: There were pictures but it’s hard to tell? Like with all these deep fakes and fake news? I don’t know._

_**12:16**  
@modthebod: Hermione would not betray us like that. Those motherfucking reporters should go die. _

_**12:17**  
@herm4ever: *sobs* I just hope she’s doing okay now._

_@modthebod: We’ll make sure she’s fine._

_@herm4ever: ? How?_

_@modthebod: I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out._

~ ~ ~

Lupin sighed inwardly as he studied the pudgy teen slumped in the couch opposite him. Sessions with Percy were always difficult. As much as he wanted to help, it was hard when the teen refused to open up. Kids like Kyler were much easier, with a push in the right direction.

“So I heard your phone was confiscated again?” Lupin said in a light, conversational tone.

Percy shrugged in response. Elbow propped on the arm rest, his hand cradled his round, smooth face as he stared out the window in boredom. There was nothing to see outside, save for the single tall tree that grew close to the building. But still, the teen steadfastly avoided eye contact with Lupin. 

“Want to tell me what you were doing on your phone during class?”

The teen shifted in his seat, his free hand fiddling with the belt that sat uncomfortably on top of his small belly. He looked down at the carpeted floor, his muddied sneakers digging into the center of the pattern. Lupin noted the scuff on his collar, the small bruise on his neck. Obviously the result of another tussle during recess.

Lupin knew some of the other boys picked on Percy. They were smart enough not to to take it too far, lest they earn a black mark on their record or worse, get expelled. But the fact that Percy’s mother was a policewoman didn’t stop them, and that itself was cause for concern. He could only make an educated guess that Percy’s mother was the type who believed in letting children fall and learn to get up by themselves. 

Employing a different tactic, Lupin leaned forward in his armchair and placed his arms on the table. “I could give you your phone back now if you cooperate with me, you know.”

That got the teen’s attention. Percy’s gaze drifted upwards and he eyed Lupin with distrust. He licked his thick lips before asking tentatively, “Is that for real?”

“Yes. I’m a man of my word.” Lupin flashed a disarming smile. “But that deal is on only if we have a proper conversation.”

Percy hesitated, biting his lips as he considered the deal. After a moment’s pause, he gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

“Great!” Lupin beamed and locked his fingers together. “So mind telling me what you were doing on your phone?”

“Just checking Facebook and stuff,” Percy mumbled.

“Ah Facebook. Lots of posts to read there.” Removing his glasses, Lupin folded it neatly and placed it on his desk. “I like browsing Facebook too, you know. Following up with what my friends are doing, laughing at jokes people post.”

He watched Percy roll his eyes like what most teens did when an older person claimed to be “cool”. At least he had gained some reaction out of him. Relaxed him a little, Lupin hoped.

“What kind of posts do you read?” Lupin asked.

“Normal stuff. Memes, videos..” Trailing off, Percy’s gaze wandered around the threadbare office.

Lupin nodded in understanding. “Those posts don’t get updated that frequently, right? You could check it once in the morning and then once during recess, and you won’t miss much, I suspect.”

“I guess.”

“So maybe you don’t need to check Facebook during class, Percy?” Lupin said gently.

With a contemptuous huff, Percy shook his head. “You won’t understand.”

“But I want to understand, Percy.” 

The teen eyed him with pursed lips and held his silence.

Lupin dropped one hand to the desk drawer, opened it, and took out a phone. He placed it face down on the table, the lime green phone case a stark contrast to the white polished surface. He watched Percy’s eyes widen at the sight of his phone. The corner of Lupin’s lips turned upwards in a knowing smile.

“Please help me understand, Percy. I would like to know.”

The teen huffed and replied begrudgingly, “It’s just that there are some people I follow on Facebook and… I want to know what they’re up to.”

Now he was forming a clearer picture, Lupin mused. The kid had a crush on someone that wasn’t from his class. It’s not like he didn’t understand the urge to know where a crush was or what they were doing. He was pretty sure he did something similar when he was young - peeking out the window when cars passed by or purposely taking the long way home just to pass by a girl’s house. 

But times had changed. It was getting to be so easy to stalk someone with just a few clicks. Anyone could find out where you had been, who you were with, what you had eaten… the list went on. And to such a fine-grained level of detail too. 

“Percy,” Lupin ventured cautiously. “I was just wondering.. Have you watched the anime Mirai Nikki before?”

The teen’s face scrunched up in puzzlement. “Yeah… why?”

“Oh just curious.” Lupin waved off the question. It was unorthodox but he knew referencing older movies would not work. Most kids he knew watched anime - it was the new fad. So if he wanted to make a point, what better way then to use lessons taken from such trendy series?

“I recently binge-watched it myself and found it interesting,” he lied, having watched the anime years back. Leaning forward in his seat, he cupped his cheek in one hand and regarded Percy with a laidback expression that hid the intensity of his scrutiny.

“What do you think of the girl, Yuno?” he asked, his voice casual.

His question was deliberate. Yuno, the female protagonist, was the famous archetype of an obsessive, possessive stalker. And given what Percy himself was doing, Lupin wanted to know how he related to the character.

Percy gave the question careful consideration, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to discern the trick up Lupin’s sleeves. Finding nothing, he huffed and threw up his hand in annoyance. “She’s cute?”

Chuckling, Lupin agreed. “Yes, she is.”

“What about her actions though?” he added. “She loved Yuki so much that she found out everything about him, down to the last detail.”

He paused and posed his next question in a quiet tone. “ Do you think that was okay for her to do?”

His piercing gaze made Percy shift uncomfortably. The teen averted his eyes and looked to the floor, his legs moving restlessly back and forth across the carpet.

Lupin pushed a little more. “Would you mind if someone who loved you did that to you?”

Percy sighed and shook his head as if to rid himself of the invasive questions. “I guess it might be creepy, I don’t know. They do it because they love me after all.”

Holding up a finger to emphasize his point, Lupin nodded. “Right. But you would find it creepy?”

“Yeah I think so.”

“So let’s flip this on its head. You’re on Facebook checking up on people.. Constantly.” He emphasized the last word. “You don’t think maybe they would find it creepy too?”

Percy’s head jerked up, his eyes wide and ablaze with contempt. “Are you saying I’m a crazy bitch like Yuno??”

Lupin lifted his hands, palms facing outward in an attempt to soothe Percy. “No, no, of course not. What I’m trying to say is it’s normal to be a bit.. obsessed with someone.”

He watched the corner of Percy’s eyes twitch as he ground his jaw. Lupin offered a smile. “I’ve been through that myself. So I definitely think it’s normal.”

Seeing the tension in Percy’s shoulder subside, Lupin dared to continue. “But sometimes you have to try to rein it back just a bit. Understand that the other person might not be comfortable with it.”

“Whoa. What I’m doing is..” Percy frowned and shook his head vehemently. “Completely different.”

“I’m just looking at Facebook. That’s like.. information that’s already out there.” The young teen argued. “Anyone can see it.”

“Yes it’s public information, I understand.” Lupin tented his fingers, his elbows planted on the desk. “But it’s this need of yours to check on people frequently. I’m just saying it is bad for you in the long run.”

“Bad?” The teen scoffed, the corner of his lips turning upwards into a smirk. “You haven’t seen the real obsessed people.”

The real obsessed ones? Lupin frowned. He made a mental note to return to this point later on.

“It’s just that I’m concerned that your actions may come across as a little extreme to the people you love. And I don’t think you want them to think of you in that way, do you?” he pointed out in a gentle tone. 

Lupin watched as Percy mulled over his words. The young teen had not protested to what he said, which was a good sign. He simply jiggled his legs in agitation, his eyes flitting over the floor as he worked his jaw back and forth. Moments passed by in silence and Lupin noted with a sigh that he was unlikely to get anything further from him.

Going off on a tangent instead, he asked, “Just wondering by the way. Who in your opinion are the real obsessed people?”

Percy relaxed in his seat but the jiggling of his legs continued. “Uh duh. Tom?” he said sarcastically.

Tom. Lupin recalled that name popping up during his session with Kyler. Young, impressionable Kyler who had a crush on the boy. A frigid cold settled in his chest. He gulped but retained his calm demeanor.

“What makes you think he’s obsessed?”

A shrug. Then a simple “I’ve seen stuff” followed.

“Who do you think he’s obsessed with?” Lupin pressed.

Percy met his gaze. The corner of his lips barely turned upwards in what seemed like a sly smile before it vanished. “See for yourself.”

Cursing inwardly, Lupin knew the teen had figured out that he held valuable information that Lupin wanted. Percy purposely withheld his knowledge and lorded it over him, knowing that Lupin couldn’t do much about it. 

The smug teen exhaled and got up from his seat. “So can I get my phone back now? I have to rush home.”

Lupin let the boy stand for a couple more awkward seconds before nodding. “Yeah I guess you’ve earned it.”

He took Percy’s phone, subconsciously tapping the corner of it on the desk, and handed it to the teen. “But let’s continue this conversation more, shall we?”

“Whatever.” Percy mumbled as he grabbed the phone, quickly stuffing it into his pants pocket.

“I’ll see you next time, Percy,” Lupin called out as the teen shuffled out of his office.

He had much to find out and people he wanted to see. Pulling out his notebook from the drawer, he wrote down two names in a neat cursive - Kyler and Tom. They needed guidance and he was sure he could help with that. There was still time.


	19. Periodic Ping 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione visits Lynn and they discuss marriage and parenting.
> 
> What do you think of Lynn's opinion on Tom's career? And her motivation?
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

The smell of well-cooked and seasoned meat wafted through the house, bringing a smile to Hermione’s lips as she moaned in delight.

“Oh Lynn, I can’t wait to eat that now,” she exclaimed, looking over her friend’s shoulders at the sizzling meat.

Lynn chuckled as she scooped the food out into two containers on the counter. “Knowing you, I guess you have been eating out everyday. It must get pretty boring.”

Hermione groaned. “I’ve been yearning for a good homecooked meal for some time now. You’re my savior, Lynn.”

Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Lynn hummed in thought. “I would have brought over some food earlier this week for you but I’ve been busy with my new job.”

Hermione waved a hand in dismissal as she leaned back on the island counter. “No don’t trouble yourself too much, Lynn. I’m already happy to have such a wonderful meal from you today.”

Thumbing the glass of water in her hand, Hermione tilted her head to one side. “But what is this new job that you have? I thought you guys were doing well enough.”

Lynn grimaced. She ran a hand through her sweaty hair as she transferred the plates and pans into the sink and turned on the tap. “It’s just a part-time thing to help with some expenses. I’m working as a waitress in the bar in town.”

Frowning, Hermione placed her glass down. She had felt the tension between Draco and Lynn from before but at the time, she didn’t have the chance to ask about it. Now that it was just the two of them, she could have a woman-to-woman talk with Lynn.

“Lynn, tell me honestly. Is everything alright with you and Draco?” 

Lynn’s scrubbing halted. “Not really. I guess you noticed right? The fights.”

Hermione hummed in response. “You guys weren’t like this before.”

“Yeah things changed a while back. I think it started getting worse when Tom was 3 or 4 years old,” Lynn replied in a low voice as she continued to wash the dishes. “You were long gone before then.”

A large boulder weighed down on Hermione’s heart as guilt sinked its claws in. She turned her head away, unable to look her old friend in the eye. Her hand gripped the edge of the counter top, its cold and hard surface grounding her in the hard reality that she ran away from her hometown and her friends.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft, laced with regret. “I should have stayed in touch but..”

A gentle touch on her shoulder made her turn to see Lynn smiling gently at her. “It’s not your fault. I understand.”

The gesture made her stomach churn. Hermione’s wide eyes flitted over Lynn’s face, pleading at the woman not to forgive her. Lynn didn’t understand anything. If she did, she would not be smiling at her right now, telling her it wasn’t her fault, sharing food with her. She didn’t deserve Lynn’s kindness. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Hermione mustered a smile and murmured a soft thank you before turning her gaze downwards. 

Lynn patted her back before returning her attention to the dishes in the sink. The sound of running water cut through the tension in the air and Hermione gulped, reaching for her glass.

As she hungrily wolfed down the water, Lynn said, “You know, I never realized love would be so complicated.”

The water helped soothe Hermione’s parched throat and she closed her eyes, letting the cold liquid seep through her veins, calming her swirling emotions. 

“Love isn’t just about two people. No matter how well you get along with each other, there’s always in-laws and family to deal with,” Lynn ranted, oblivious to Hermione’s state.

At the mention of in-laws, Lynn gave a sarcastic cluck. “And you know Draco’s parents, right?”

Having more or less calmed down, Hermione chuckled at Lynn’s remark. “They certainly aren’t easy.”

“Oh they sure aren’t,” Lynn agreed with a laugh. “Then after in-laws, you get kids. And that’s another full set of conflicts.”

Lynn turned off the tap and wiped her hands on the hanging cloth off the wall. After scooping up the plastic covers resting on the counter top, she placed them over the containers of food and secured them.

Turning to Hermione, she handed over the containers with a smile. “There you go.”

“Thanks Lynn.” Hermione returned the smile with her own as she hugged the containers to her chest. “Mind if I get a bag or something for these?”

“Sure.” Rummaging around one of the cabinets, Lynn pulled out a plastic bag and passed it to Hermione.

Folding her arms across her chest, Lynn watched as Hermione bent over the counter and placed the containers in the bag. The corner of her lips curled up in a grin as she teased, “So any man in your life?”

Hermione paused, the flicker of guilt in her eyes hidden by the locks of hair that hung over her forehead as she bent down. She gave a nervous chuckle. “No one… permanent, I guess.”

Lynn hummed in response. “Ever think of having kids?”

“Not really.” Shrugging, Hermione slung the bag over her shoulder and turned to face Lynn. “How was having Tom like for you?”

“Oh a completely mixed bag,” the petite woman snickered as she shoved her hands in the pocket of her stained apron.

Lynn leaned against the counter top, facing Hermione. Her eyes glistened with nostalgia, a sweet smile adorning her face. “The joy that you get raising a child is just…” She searched for a word. “Indescribable.”

“So what’s the mixed part?”

“Ah.” Rolling her eyes, Lynn pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “The endless heartache and frustration.”

A hearty laugh bubbled from Hermione’s throat. “That sounds very extreme!” she exclaimed amidst peals of laughter.

“So what’s the frustration about now? A girlfriend you don’t like?” she teased, winking at Lynn.

Scoffing, Lynn brushed the question off with a wave of her hand. “He’s too shy to have one. No, it’s actually about his studies.”

Hermione frowned. “I thought he was doing alright in school?”

“It’s not good enough.” A hand on her hip, Lynn huffed. “If he’s to choose a good career path, the grades he’s getting in math and science aren’t high. He’s doing fine in humanities but there’s no point in that.”

Hermione lifted her eyebrows. “Since when did you get so hung up about all that? Weren’t you yourself better at humanities than math? And yet you ended up fine.”

“Fine?” Lynn snorted. “Not exactly. It’s because I ended up here that I want something better for Tom.”

Shifting uncomfortably on one foot, Hermione chose not to argue with her. She didn’t subscribe to the whole “wanting something better for your kid” idea. Her experience with that line - so often uttered by her mother - left a bitter taste in her throat. 

“I wish my parents had pushed me to make something of myself,” Lynn said quietly, her lips drawing into a thin line. Her eyes grew distant for a few seconds but almost instantly, she snapped out of her reverie. “Anyway, math and science suits him better. He’s a smart kid.”

“I’m sure he’s smart,” Hermione murmured in agreement. She cleared her throat, her eyes flitting from Lynn to the floor and back to Lynn again before she dared to venture her own opinion. “But if he’s doing much better in humanities, maybe he is suited for that.”

Lynn’s head jerked up and she stared at Hermione, eyes shining with incredulity. Her tone was sharp, a mixture of hurt and anger pouring out into her words. “What do you mean by that? Tom’s very good in his sciences. He’s just not giving it his all. That’s why we’re sending him for more extra classes.”

Taken aback by her friend’s defensiveness, Hermione hurriedly lifted her hands up, palms facing outwards in surrender. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I-I’m sure Tom’s doing well in science.”

“Yeah of course.” Frowning, Lynn maintained her defiant stance. She rolled her tense shoulders and folded her arms across her chest. “I know my child best.”

“Right,” Hermione replied.

An awkward silence descended on the kitchen that was only broken by the tinkling sound of the doorbell. Hermione straightened, glad at the excuse to take her leave. “Well, I should really get going.”

Lynn managed a quick smile. “Sure. Let me see you to the door.”

They headed for the front of the house in silence. As Lynn opened the front door, Hermione hung in the hallway to collect her pouch and jacket.

“Valerie. You must be here for Kyler.”


	20. Periodic Ping 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valerie's sharp words bring back bad memories and Hermione's terrified when she sees a letter at her doorstep.
> 
> What do you think is written in that letter??
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

Hanging her pouch over her shoulder, Hermione looked towards the open front door. Partially blocked by a figure, the sun streamed into the house in slits. Lynn stepped aside, letting a young teen girl dressed in shorts and a spaghetti top. 

Hermione recognized her student and called out warmly, “Oh hi Valerie. You look even prettier outside of class.”

The girl rolled her eyes and flipped her long hair over her shoulders. “Yeah whatever.” She turned to Lynn, her voice low and carrying a hint of respect. “Mum and Dad aren’t around as usual, so they sent me for Kyler.”

“Sure.” Lynn placed a hand on Valerie’s shoulder and smiled. “I’ll go get her.”

Hermione watched as Lynn bounded up the stairs and disappeared down the hallway. Alone with the teen, Hermione looked her over. She noted the girl’s clothes were from a trendy brand, along with the bracelet around her wrist. “Nice outfit. I like your bracelet,” she said conversationally.

Valerie gave a curt nod. “Thanks.”

The teen appraised Hermione’s clothings. “Your blouse and skirt looks good too.”

Beaming, Hermione replied, “Oh thank you! I got them-”

“It would have looked much better on you if you were younger though.”

The smile on Hermione’s lips froze and she stared at Valerie. “What?”

Valerie shrugged, her hands digging into her pockets. “I’m just saying you looked better back in the day.”

Valerie’s lips moved as she talked but the sound blurred into a drone in Hermione’s mind. The familiar voice of a middle-aged woman, laced with hiccups and burps - the sign of intoxication - whispered harshly in her ear. “You useless daughter.” 

Hermione sucked in a breath. The image of a skinny woman holding an empty wine bottle towering over her flashed in her eyes. She shuddered, smelling the stench of alcohol. And then those few words echoed in her mind, haunting her again. Taunting her.

_“If you were prettier or cuter, your father wouldn’t have left us.”_

No. Not again. 

She shook her head as if she could shake away those words. But it burned. It scorched her skin. Her heart pounded ferociously in her ribcage as if it threatened to leave her body. A surge of anger boiled her veins.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Focus. Focus.

Her eyelids fluttered open. The young girl was still jabbering on, oblivious of the momentary trance Hermione had slipped into. Hermione clenched her fists, biting on the inside of her lips as she tried to calm herself down. But the anger did not dissipate. 

She stared at Valerie, her chest heaving. Unable to contain the words on the tip of her tongue, she sniped back. “You’re right, Valerie. So you’d better invest more in your youth now. While you can.”

Taken aback, Valerie’s eyes widened. Her expression gave Hermione some satisfaction and the anger building up in her diminished. Hermione’s lips curved into a smirk as the young girl bristled and glared. 

Valerie folded her arms across her chest and called out. “Kyler! We need to go now!”

A younger girl appeared at the top of the staircase and rushed down, her light footsteps tapping on the wooden steps. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Hermione recognized her as the shy girl in Tom’s class. She didn’t dress too differently outside of school, with a polo tee buttoned to the very top and slacks. Hermione greeted her with a smile. “Hi Kyler.”

Kyler nodded, her bangs covering her eyes. “Hi Ms Hermione.”

Lips parting to say more, Hermione was cut off by a high-pitched ringtone. It took no more than one buzz before Kyler hurriedly fumbled her phone out of her pocket and answered.

“Hi Dad,” Kyler mumbled. “Yeah. No Valerie’s right here. She just arrived. Yeah we’re coming back now.”

She hung up and motioned to her older sister. “Dad said not to drive too fast.”

Valerie scoffed and swung the car keys around her index finger. “Right. When it’s just me, he doesn’t care.”

“We’re leaving, Ms Lynn. Bye!” Valerie called out before turning towards the door, pointedly ignoring Hermione.

Kyler followed behind, but not before throwing a nod at Hermione. She called out anxiously to her sister as she rushed out the door. “But he’ll know, sis. You know the GPS tracker is accurate down to..”

Her words grew fainter as she hurried away. Hermione frowned at the exchange between sisters but her thoughts were interrupted by a loud creak. She looked up to see Lynn padding down the staircase. 

“They left already?” Lynn asked.

“Yeah.” Hermione jerked a thumb towards the door. “Kyler got a call from her dad.”

Hermione peered up the staircase. “Tom didn’t send her off?”

Shrugging, Lynn passed it off with a wave of her hand. “He’s always too lazy to do that. It’s normal.”

“Huh.” Hermione pondered but chose not to deliberate on it. “Anyway, I got to make a move too. See you, Lynn.”

“Call me if you crave more food, Hermione,” Lynn called out with a laugh punctuating her words.

“Thanks!” Hermione replied as she sauntered out the door. She walked the short distance to her car, got in, and placed the bag of food on the passenger seat. Once she had the car started, its engine purring, she released a deep breath and slumped back in her seat. 

After seeing her name in the papers again this morning, she had thought it would be a good idea to visit her best friend. It was supposed to be a fun, harmless visit, and look what happened. Almost got into an argument with said friend and directly took a snipe at a student. Could this day get any better?

She turned on the radio, flipping through stations until she got the jazz station. Buckling her seatbelt, Hermione sighed and placed her hands on the steering wheel. Time to just unwind and not think about anything.

She backed her car out of the driveway and drove towards home. The music combined with the rolling scenery helped ease her mind, letting the events of the day melt away. By the time she reached home, a smile had settled on her face.

Hermione got out of the car, jangling her keys as the last tune from the radio repeated in her mind. She walked to the front door and slotted her front key into the lock when she noticed a letter on the doorstep. 

Raising an eyebrow, she bent down and picked it up. Her name and address was printed on the envelope in clean block letters. The way it looked was hauntingly familiar. She gulped, turning her head to rake her eyes across her surroundings. There was no one around but she couldn’t help the sensation of being looked at.

Turning back to the letter in hand, she took in a shaky breath before tearing through the envelope haphazardly. There was a single piece of paper inside. 

Hermione let the envelope flutter to the ground. She unfolded the paper, her hands shaky and damp with sweat. Her eyes flitted across the printed letters at lightning speed. Despite the anonymity of the letter, it didn’t take her long to recognize the familiar writing style. And it sent a chill through her veins. 

He was back.


	21. Periodic Ping 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Marsha decide next steps to address Hermione's crazy fan.
> 
> What do you think of Marsha's words to Harry? Does society hold double standards with regards to women?
> 
> If you want to support my original novel, do buy me a coffee at [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)! <3

_My dear Hermione,_

_I haven’t written to you in a while, I apologize. I saw your name in the papers and I got worried about you. You don’t need to worry about me, of course. I will always believe you. But I know you will be hurt by those ignorant tabloids. So I want you to know that I will be here for you. You are never alone._

_From your biggest fan._

“God what the hell is wrong with these people?!” Harry exclaimed after he had finished reading the letter from Hermione’s fan for the umpteenth time.

Seating across from him at her desk, Marsha sighed and pinched her forehead between thumb and forefinger. “Stop reading that again, Harry. It’s not going to help.”

The chair creaked as Harry spun it to face his partner. He slammed the letter on his desk before leaning back, his arms folded across his chest. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe how crazy these fans can get. They just don’t get it, do they?”

“No they don’t.” Marsha said in a sing-song, matter-of-fact tone. Her fingers hit the keyboard in a slow, rhythmic fashion as she focused her gaze on the computer screen. “The entertainment business is full of crazy shit.”

“More like the fans are,” Harry argued as his eyebrows creased. “I mean did you see how broken she looked when we arrived?”

A groan broke from Marsha’s throat as she covered her forehead with a palm. She swung her chair around and fixed Harry in a stern look. “Harry, I know you have a thing for her. But remember, we need to be objective here.”

Harry straightened in his chair and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Right. You’re right. Sorry.”

“Good.” Marsha broke into a smile before rotating her chair back to face her screen.

Picking up a pen and spinning it, Harry leaned on his desk. He cupped his chin in one hand, deep in thought as he looked up at the spinning fan blades. Most of the other police were on beat, leaving a few scattered around the station. Over the occasional creak of the fan motor, the clicking of the mouse or occasional clack of the keyboard punctuated the humid silence. 

He lifted a finger and smacked his lips together, an idea forming in his brain. “How about we post someone outside Hermione’s home? For surveillance. Just in case that crazy fan does something.”

Marsha’s gaze didn’t leave the computer screen as she replied half-heartedly, “There’s not enough evidence that this fan is a menace. And we don’t have the resources for that kind of stakeout.”

Harry threw his hands up and scoffed in frustration. “So? We do nothing then?”

“If you’re really worried, then ask her to install some cameras.”

“That’s it?” Harry’s eyebrows raised in question. 

Silence greeted him. He threw his pen on the desk and plunked back into his chair, its gears squeaking in protest. Restless, he spun his chair around a few times. When he got fed up of the lack of conversation, he leaned over his L-shaped desk and peered at Marsha’s screen.

“What are you looking at anyway?” he asked.

Marsha pointed a finger at the browser window on her screen. It was open to a tabloid news site with a blurred picture of a kissing couple. Harry recognized the man as a rising politician in the city. His eyes panned over to the woman, her long locks obscuring part of her face. Despite the low resolution of the image, he immediately knew who the woman was.

He gulped, his eyebrows creasing. “Why are you looking at this?”

“I wanted to check whether the content mentioned in the letter was fabricated.” Marsha shrugged. “Looks like the part about the scandal was true.”

“More like she was in the news. Whether she actually was with the politician is still debatable.” Harry settled back in his chair. His fingers fiddled with the leather of the arm rest as dozens of questions raced through his mind.

His colleague snickered as she scrolled through the article. “You’re just in denial because this is about Hermione. If it were any other person in the show biz, you would have said it was true.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Indignant at Marsha’s accusation, he countered. “That’s not true. I mean haven’t you heard about all the recent fake images, fake videos, fake news? You can’t trust everything you see-”

“In one of the biggest, most reliable newspapers?” Marsha cut him off with a raised eyebrow as she threw him a side glance.

He sputtered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Shaking his head, he tried to come up with a rebuttal but nothing came to mind. He deflated, folding into himself on the chair as doubts and turmoil roiled inside him. 

Marsha turned to look at him. Seeing the mixture of confusion, disappointment, and hurt that contorted his face, her expression softened. She leaned forward, hands clasped. Her voice was gentle but with a touch of finality. “Look, Harry. I know this may be hard for you to accept. But this is the way the entertainment biz has always been. You sleep around to work your way up to the top. It’s no different for Hermione. You have to stop putting her on a pedestal and see her as what she is - human and flawed.”

She paused, watching him take in her words as he bit on his nail. His gaze flitted up to meet hers and he gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. Knowing that he needed more time to process everything, she got up from her seat, crossed over to his desk and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. “Well, I’m going to head over to the post office. See what they can do to track who sent that letter.”

“Thanks, Marsha,” Harry murmured and flashed a small smile at her. His gaze flicked back to his desk and a couple of seconds later, he heard the front door whoosh open and then shut, signalling her departure.

He propped his elbow on the armrest, cradling his head in his hand as he bowed down. Marsha’s words rang in his ears like the buzz of a persistent bee. Deep inside, he knew she was right. But it was hard. Hard to accept that the girl of his dreams for years had been sleeping around like a.. 

He grimaced even before the word formed in his head. A voice nagged at him, questioning his stereotypical judgement of women. She didn’t deserve that. So what if she had a few sexual relationships? What did it matter in this age of openness? 

Anyway, she had done it out of necessity to further her career. If anything, one could say she was the victim of the system. Harry leaned back and rested his head on the top of the chair. Now that he thought about it, he could see why she had suddenly decided to move back home. How desperate she must have been to evade the press and crazed fans. 

A wave of pity washed over him. He remembered how she looked when they had gone to retrieve the letter. The sparkle of life in her eyes had been replaced with fear, as if she was haunted by ghosts of her past. Her face was ashen and void of color. Even her voice tremored as she told them about the letter.

He couldn’t imagine what she had been through when she was in the city, all alone. But he was here now. He could help. Determined, he straightened in his chair and fished his phone out of his pocket. Thumbing through his address book, he found Hermione’s name. He hesitated, his finger hovering above the call button. Maybe it was better to text her.

He tapped on the message button instead and rapidly sent out a text to inform her of what steps would be taken. At the end of his text, he offered to help her install surveillance cameras around her house. Once he had sent it out, he waited.

It took barely two minutes before a soft ping had him shooting out of his seat. He opened the message, read through its short contents, and broke into a smile. Grabbing his bag, he hurried out the station and to his car. 

Don’t worry, Hermione, he thought. Nothing will happen to you if I’m here.


	22. Final Warning 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CAMEO: Keith Davis from @snowylock 's mystery comic that's bound to make you fall in love with it. Check it out!  
> https://tapas.io/series/Keith-and-Jeremys-Mystical-Mysteries/info
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)
> 
> Fenrir makes advances on Hermione in school, and Tonks makes an important decision.
> 
> Despite the increasing awareness of sexual harassment, do you think it's sufficiently dealt with? Would you agree with Tonk's decision?

**May 29 202X**

_  
**20:45**  
@herm4ever: Oh god guys! Some tabloid found out about Hermione’s parents. Like omg man._

_@mr-drake: what they say?_

_@herm4ever: I only have the physical copy. So here’s a pic of the article._

_**20:50**  
@mr-drake: holy shit so her ma was another piece of hot ass? a model? cool_

_@herm4ever: Yeah they say she was the second wife but the marriage didn’t last long?? Like wow. Poor Hermione. *cries*_

_**20:52**  
@kai: Her mum looks gorgeous. Although a bit too skinny._

_**21:00**  
@herm4ever: But like look what they say after that. Her mum was like this super sexy slut?? So they’re saying Hermione took after her. What in the actual hell??_

_**21:02**  
@modthebod: The motherfuckers. How dare they. They’ll pay for that, I swear._

_@mr-drake: but Hermione sure got her ma’s beauty, sexy genes. that you gotta admit is true. and like who wouldn’t wanna tap that ass?_

_@modthebod: Okay that’s it. I’ve said it before but mr-drake, you’re a fucking bastard. You don’t deserve to be treated nicely like a human being. You know what, I’m just going to ban you from the server._

_@mr-drake: hey hey not cool man. ok fine I apolo_

_@mr-drake has been banned._

_**21:05** _

_@kai: Wow._

_@modthebod: Yeah that’s what you get for flouting the rules. He was just asking for it._

_**21:07** _

_@herm4ever: Wait drake got banned? *gasps* But he was just messing around.._

_@modthebod: I don’t care. That was the last straw. He’s not welcome here until he gives a sincere apology._

The recess bell rang, its shrill tone piercing through the subdued classrooms in the school building. Classes were hurriedly wrapped up and hundreds of students together with teachers spilled into the hallways. In the matter of a few minutes, the boisterous laughter and loud chatter died down as most of the occupants vacated the premises, filtering into the canteen or school field.

When quiet resumed, Lupin poked his head out into the hallway. Satisfied upon finding it empty save for a few students, he closed his office door behind him. Hands in his pockets, he walked down the hallway, nodding with a smile to some of the students. 

It had been a pleasant morning for him, with no student to see and just paperwork to fill in. Tonks’s work had eased up as well, so she had messaged him earlier for lunch. Lupin turned the corner and headed down the stairs, a skip in his step.

He was at the first landing when he heard Hermione’s voice drifting up from some lower floor. Something about the tone of her voice was off. He slowed his pace, creeping down the steps as his back hugged the wall. 

He could hear her clearer now. A few steps away from the next landing, he caught a glimpse of her back. He couldn’t see who she was with but her arms were folded across her chest, the tips of her fingers curling into her soft white blouse.

“... please just stop this.” He heard her plead.

A snicker. Then “What exactly do you want me to stop?”

Lupin froze. He recognized the hoarse voice instantly. Fenrir, the bastard.

“You and me. It’s.. it’s not happening.” Hermione added after a pause, “I’m sorry.”

He heard Fenrir chuckle. Hermione took a step back and he could see Fenrir’s hand reach out to stroke her hair. She recoiled, leaving his hand suspended in mid-air. 

Fenrir clicked his tongue. His hand dropped. “Too bad. A pretty thing like you.”

His words made Lupin’s lips curl in disgust. It seemed like that would have been the end of it but Fenrir added. “Doesn’t mean we still can’t be friends though.”

“Friends?” The skepticism in Hermione’s tone was barely concealed.

“Yes, friends.” Fenrir emphasized the words with a hiss. “Friends visit each other, you know? How about you come to my place and… talk?”

Lupin shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut. Only an idiot would not recognize the innuendo in Fenrir’s words. The guy didn’t know when to back off. Enough was enough. Lupin opened his eyes, making to intervene, when a resounding slap echoed in the stairway.

“You come on to me again and I won’t close an eye anymore.” Hermione’s voice resonated with a mixture of anger and fear. “I’ll report you to the principal and to the authorities, got it??”

Before Fenrir had a chance to respond, Hermione stormed off down the hallway. As she passed by Lupin, he was taken aback by the look on her face. Her eyes moist, it glistened with rage. Her jaw quivered and her hands were balled up at her sides. Her gaze was fixed on a distant point, so she didn’t even notice his presence.

“Fucking bitch,” he heard Fenrir snarl. The sound of stomping boots followed and then the slam of a door. 

Lupin released the breath he was holding. The tense atmosphere had pumped up the heat and he found himself perspiring. Wiping away the sheen on his forehead, he considered his options. The incident had to be reported, of this he had no doubt. He bounded down the stairs until he reached the second floor, where he ran down the hallway and knocked on the door of the office at the very corner. 

“Come in.” A voice called out from the depths of the office.

He let himself in and relished in the cool air from the air conditioner.

“You’re a little late, Lupin,” Tonks teased. She sat at a big oak desk, her back facing the glass window. Papers and folders were laid neatly on her table. Her gaze was on her computer screen, her fingers clacking over the keyboard.

“Yeah,” Lupin huffed, his breath coming out in short pants. “I ran into err.. something. On the way down.”

Hearing her husband’s slightly labored breathing, Tonks looked up over her thin oblong glasses. An eyebrow raised, she removed her glasses and placed them on the table. “What happened to you?”

Lupin pulled out the chair opposite her and settled into it. He leaned over the desk, propping his elbows on it. “It’s Fenrir.”

Tonks rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she reclined in her chair. “Oh great. What has he done now?”

“He was making advances on Hermione. Again.” Lupin paused, rubbing his hand along his jaw. “It seems like it’s not just once or twice either.”

Tonks pursed her lips and remained silent. Her finger tapped on her arm as she contemplated the situation. “How bad was it?” she said quietly.

“Bad.” He shook his head. “She told him directly to stop the advances. And he still dared to ask her to his place.”

“How did Hermione take it?” 

“She umm,” Lupin hesitated before saying, “slapped him. And threatened to report him.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Tonks tented her fingers. “I’m glad she did.”

“I’m with you on that.” Lupin chuckled.

“But I have to take action on this.”

“Agreed.”

Sighing, Tonks leaned forward. “I have to fire Fenrir.”

Lupin’s eyes widened. “A-are you sure? It might backfire on Hermione though if she’s the reason for his losing a job.”

“He gives me no choice. It’s not the first time, and he obviously hasn’t learned a lesson. This is the last straw. He can’t go unpunished.” Resignation tinted her voice as she shook her head.

Lupin was silent. He understood the dilemma she was in but he still preached for caution. “Maybe not now though. Not before the board assessment.”

Taking Tonks’s silence as permission to continue, he said, “For one, you’ll have to account to the board why you fired him.”

He paused and licked his lips. “Second, and my main concern. Hermione’s rejection is still raw in his mind. You fire him now, today, and I’m positive he’ll take it out on her. If you give it just a few days, he’ll have time to calm down. And hopefully, it won’t affect Hermione.”

Tonks tapped her index finger on the desk as she considered his reasoning. Lupin waited patiently. He could almost hear the gears turning in her mind. A moment later, she conceded. “Alright. I’ll do it after the assessment.”

Lupin sighed in relief.

“But we need to speak to Hermione,” Tonks added.

“Definitely.”

The issue now settled, Tonks’s lips broke into a tired smile. “Okay now that’s done, let’s get lunch.”

“Yes, I’m starving now,” Lupin exclaimed as he got up and stretched.

Tonks laughed as she spun her chair and grabbed her bag off the floor. “You’re buying, right?”

Giving his wife a wink, Lupin smiled. “Anything for you, dear.”

He sighed in relief, glad to put the whole incident behind him. Hopefully that would mark the end of it all. Despite the small voice that whispered words of doubt into his mind, he shoved it aside and took his wife’s hand, intent on enjoying the day ahead.


	23. Final Warning 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marsha's authoritarian parenting techniques are put on display and Harry notices some interesting family photos in her home.
> 
> What do you think of Marsha's parenting techniques? Have you done anything to hide stuff from your parents? ;P 
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

Soft pings punctuated the conversation between Marsha and Harry, each time distracting the young man whose eyes flitted to the screen of his mobile phone. While he scanned the contents of the newly sent message, he hummed in response to Marsha’s continued jabber before turning his attention back to her after swiftly typing out a reply.

By the eleventh message, the older woman scrunched her nose and slapped her palm on the steering wheel. “Can you stop that infernal noise? I doubt you listened to anything I said.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Harry scrambled to say as his fingers darted over the screen. “One last message, I swear.”

Huffing, Marsha took her eyes off the road for a second. She eyed Harry as he shoved the phone back down in the pocket of his uniform. Curious, she asked, “Who’s that anyway?”

“Luna. She’s venting about her colleagues.”

Marsha’s eyebrows lifted in question. “What did they say now? Or should I just ask your sister that later over lunch?”

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged. “I can tell you the gist of it. Anyway I’m sure Luna will give you all the details later.”

He slid his hands down his thighs, ironing out the creases in his pants. “Seems like those gossip mongers asked Luna about Shawn’s scores for the recent test. Then they rubbed their kid’s scores in her face and pretended to feel bad for her. You know the type.”

Grunting, Marsha shook her head. “Oh I know that kind. They go aww you poor thing and you can see that twinkle of glee in their bloody eyes.”

“Exactly.” Harry concurred with a wag of his finger. “And then they gave her.. Advice.” He raised his hands and made quotation signs in the air.

“Advice my ass.”

“Yeah I told her to tune them out and go kickboxing later in the gym. Let out some anger.”

Marsha scoffed in response as she looked out her side mirror before turning into the main road. “She’ll destroy that punching bag for sure.”

A knowing chuckle left Harry’s lips. “That she will.”

“Do you get talk like that about Percy?”

“Not as much as Luna, luckily.” Marsha snorted. Her eyes widened as she recalled a pressing matter. “Damn I forgot. Do you mind if we make a quick stop at my place first? I need to grab the camera I promised Luna.”

“Sure, no rush.”

“Thanks.” Marsha flicked on the turn indicator and took the next exit. “And yeah, our colleagues have better things to talk about than kids. Although I get the occasional spiteful comment from other parents asking why Percy isn’t more athletic or outgoing or bright.”

“What do you tell them?” Harry turned in his seat, eager to hear more.

Giving him a side glance, the corner of Marsha’s lips curled upwards in a snigger. “I tell them to mind their own business. And if they really get on my nerves, I take a snipe at their kid.”

Laughter erupted from Harry as he slapped his knee. “That’s a good one. I wish I could tell Luna to do that. Imagine the looks on her colleagues’ faces!”

Marsha joined in on his guffaws until it subsided. “Yeah,” she sighed. “I can understand why she doesn’t though. Those colleagues of hers are the kind to keep a grudge. It would be hard to face them every day after that.”

Humming in response, Harry looked out the window at the passing stores, busy and packed with the lunch crowds. “I don’t get why people always have to compare though. And it’s not just the parents too. Kids get it equally bad.”

“Yeah Percy gets it too, I hear.”

“How does he handle that?”

Marsha shrugged. “I tell him to stand up for himself. He can’t rely on me to settle this kind of crap. People gotta learn to be strong by themselves.”

Harry nodded. He didn’t disagree that kids needed to learn to be independent. Although knowing Marsha, she probably came down too hard on Percy. He hardly saw Percy but the short glimpses of the teen told him what he needed to know. Slightly overweight and sullen, the kid was definitely not the sociable kind and must attract a lot of unwanted attention from bullies.

“Anyway I guess Percy is at home?” he asked.

“Should be back by now. Half day at school.” 

The police car slowed as the scenery shifted from bustling storefronts to a nestle of two-storey houses interspersed with small patches of greenery. It was quiet, owing to the lunch timing. Marsha let the car drift to a stop outside a white-washed, prim house. 

As she grabbed her house keys from the car’s storage holder, Harry said, “Mind if I pop in to use the bathroom?”

“No problem.” Marsha turned off the engine and removed the key, slipping it into her pants pocket. 

The two of them got out, the slam of the car doors echoing in the quiet neighborhood. Marsha unlocked the gate and it swung open smoothly. As they crossed the yard, Harry admired the well-cut, short grass in the lawn. It could do with flowers to brighten up the front of the place but Marsha wasn’t a fan of those. 

He waited for his colleague to open the front door before following her in. Instantly, he was greeted by the muffled sounds of heavy metal booming through the walls. 

“That would be Percy,” Marsha said. “I’m going upstairs to get the camera. The bathroom is just down the hallway to your left.”

“Got it.” Harry watched her plod up the stairs before turning his attention to his surroundings. The kitchen was to the right and a small living room to the left. He walked down the hallway, taking in the pictures that lined the wall. In some of them, Marsha was a young, slimmer woman but with that same thousand-watt beam. He smiled, admiring his colleague’s outgoing nature. 

Some photos were of family gatherings where he recognized Marsha and what was probably her handsome brother. According to Luna, he was a photographer and unfortunately, deceased at a young age. Then came photos of Marsha and her husband, both decked in uniform, together with a young Percy. Toddler Percy was chubby and had a wonderful smile, no doubt inherited from his mother.

Later photos however only had Marsha and an older Percy. He knew her husband had died in service and it obviously took a toll on mother and son. Percy had lost much of his smile, Marsha had started putting on weight. Harry’s smile dropped as a bubble of sympathy rose inside his chest. 

He reached the bathroom, turned the door handle, and entered the small, cozy space. It was utilitarian and clean, much better than the male toilets at the police station on a bad day. After relieving himself, he washed his hands, dried them on a beige towel, and left the bathroom. 

As he made his way back to the front of the house, he realized that the sounds of heavy metal were now replaced by raised voices. Marsha’s stern tone reverberated through the house although he couldn’t hear the exact words no matter how much he strained his ears. Moments later, a door upstairs opened and Marsha’s words filtered down to where Harry stood. 

“Try that one more time and I’ll take that damn computer to the junk shop!” 

Harry winced at the sound of the slamming of the door. Loud footsteps stomped down the stairs. He looked up to see an irate Marsha, splotches of red on her face. Her expression was dark, eyes ablaze with fury. Lips drawn in a thin line, she motioned to Harry with a curt wave of her hand.

As they left the house, Harry quietly voiced up. “I’ll drive.”

Marsha nodded and tossed him the car key, heading towards the passenger seat instead. After the two of them got into the car, Harry cleared his throat as he turned the key in the ignition. “Want to talk about it?”

Yanking her seatbelt over her large frame, Marsha cursed under her breath before replying, “I caught Percy on the computer on some suspicious website - I don’t know what. He closed the window too fast.”

She folded her arms across her chest. Her voice terse, she glared out the window pane. “He’s supposed to be studying! The computer is only there for that. I’ll make sure the next time he does it, I’ll wreck that damn device!”

Harry’s lips pulled into a grimace. After pulling out of the parking space, he shifted gear and pumped down on the accelerator pedal. When he was back on the main road, he mustered his nerves and said cautiously, “It’s not easy to know what he’s doing on the computer the whole time. Even if you go so hard on him, he can always do it behind your back. If you relax your approach, maybe he won’t do it so secretly-”

“Yeah right,” Marsha interjected with a careless wave of his hand. “I can always see what he’s doing on that machine.”

This time, Harry kept his mouth shut. There were so many ways that Percy could avoid detection, even with parental controls on. Teens could be very resourceful, especially when it came to hiding stuff from parents. But Marsha would not understand and would not believe in that. 

“Still,” he pressed. “It might not be a good idea to use such an authoritarian way with a teenage guy.”

“Why not?” Marsha scoffed, her eyebrows knitting into a frown. “It worked out well with you and Luna after all.”

Harry shook his head as he negotiated a turn and headed into town. “Not really. After Dad died, Luna swore that she would never follow in his footsteps when she had kids. That’s why she’s so lax with Shawn.”

“And that’s not good either.” Marsha said pointedly as she turned to face Harry. “Look at how rebellious Shawn is. She can’t even control him.”

Unable to disagree with that, Harry grunted instead. He took the next corner and pulled up beside a small restaurant. “Well, maybe you should tell that to her directly,” he said with an impish grin.

The anger oozing off Marsha melted for a moment and she punched his shoulder playfully. “At least come with me to say hi then. Luna would be happy to see you drop by for a bite too.”

Chuckling, Harry raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. You always have the last say.”

As he turned off the engine, he hoped Marsha wouldn’t bring up the subject with Luna. After all, his sister was equally fiery and could get heated up when it came to Shawn. 

A growl from his stomach reminded him of more pressing things. He rubbed a hand over his flat tummy. Oh well, first things first - time to fill up the tank.


	24. Final Warning 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tells Draco and Ron about his date with Hermione and something feels wrong.
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

As fate would have it, Ron was already seated near the front of Luna’s little restaurant, helping himself to a large plate of fried rice. So when Harry walked in with Marsha, a small bell by the door tinkling to announce their arrival, the young man beamed and waved Harry over.

After a round of teasing from Luna and Marsha, Harry placed his order and headed over to where his friend was seating. Sidling into the plastic bench opposite Ron, Harry eyed the fast receding grains of rice on Ron’s place.

“Hey slow down, man. I just got here,” he teased, following it up with a slap on Ron’s meaty bicep which bulged under the striped shirt.. 

Ron guffawed and took a gulp of water from his glass. “Alright then. There.” He placed his spoon and fork down. “I’ll wait until you get yours.”

“Thanks.” Harry unbuttoned his uniform shirt a little more and rifled a hand through his hair. “How’s it going?”

A grunt rumbled Ron’s chest. “Nothing much. Just Ma and Pa either hinting or directly complaining about the lack of grandchildren.”

“Again huh. Just lie and say you have a girlfriend.” Harry waved a hand in dismissal as he looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass panes at the lunch crowd bustling in the street. He jerked a thumb at the throngs of people. “Pick one of the good-looking girls, snap a photo, and pretend that’s the girl.”

Ron snorted and shook his head. “That won’t work on them. They recently learnt how to Google search for images, you know. One click and they’ll find out who the girl is and stalk her social media.”

A smirk tugged the corner of Harry’s lips. “Suddenly they’re so tech savvy eh?”

“Yeah right. A minute later, they’ll text me asking how to send an image using Whatsapp.” Ron jibed, his words laced with sarcasm.

“Tech savvy in the wrong ways then.” Harry lifted an eyebrow as he poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.

“Definitely.” A side glance to the long counter on the right, behind which was the kitchen, told Ron that Harry’s food was done. His gaze switched back to Harry. “Yours is coming.”

“Good. I’m positively starving,” Harry groaned. He licked his lips as Luna whipped up the piping plate and walked around the counter towards them. 

“There you go, one fried chicken cutlet with curry.” She announced with a flourish, placing the large white plate down. Luna ruffled her brother’s hair and grinned. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks.” Flashing a smile, Harry watched her head back towards the counter to deal with the lunch crowd now trickling in. He raked his eyes over the people streaming in, recognizing some of the restaurant’s loyal patrons, until his gaze settled on a middle-aged, rugged-looking man in a plain white tee and jeans.

Harry nudged Ron with an elbow and said in a hushed tone, “Hey Ron, isn’t that Draco?”

“What?” His voice muffled by the large spoonful of food, Ron shifted his gaze to where Harry was pointing at. Recognizing his coworker, he groaned in dismay. “Goddamn it, it is him.”

As if on cue, Draco turned in their direction as he looked for a spot to sit. Seeing Ron, his lips curled up in a smile and he held up a hand in greeting. 

Ron stifled another groan as he responded in kind. Whispering to Harry under his breath, his fists clenched. “Pray he doesn’t come this way.”

Incoming footsteps said otherwise.

“Oh god he is coming this way,” Ron said behind gritted teeth. “Okay smile.”

“Hey Draco,” he exclaimed, his pitch a little higher than normal in feigned joy. “I didn’t know you were coming here for lunch too.”

Harry covered his mouth with the back of his palm to hold back the laughter bubbling his chest. 

“Good to see you here too, Ron,” Draco replied with a smile. His head swiveled to face Harry and he nodded. “And.. Harry right?”

Clearing his throat, Harry composed himself. “Yup. Haven’t seen you in a while, Draco.”

“Life’s been hectic, yeah.”

The conversation lapsed for a second too long and an air of awkwardness descended on the three men. 

“Want to join us?” Ron piped up, a hint of reluctance in his tone.

“Oh no I don’t want to disturb you two,” replied Draco who dug a hand into the pocket of his jeans. “I got takeout.”

“Excuse me, young man.” A gruff voice interrupted from behind Draco.

Quickly mumbling an apology, Draco moved closer to the table as the elderly couple squeezed past him. The aisles in the small restaurant were narrow and harder to navigate during lunch and dinner crowds. Watching Draco shift around as more people walked past made Harry and Ron uncomfortable. So Harry patted the space beside him on the bench. “You might as well sit and wait for your food.” 

“It’s easier than clogging up the aisle,” he added with a laugh, which had Ron snorting as well.

There was a moment of slight hesitation before Draco accepted the invitation with a nod of his head. He slid in beside Harry and propped his elbows on the table. “Don’t mind me though. You guys continue eating.”

With a shrug, Ron dug his spoon into the rice. “Don’t mind if I do then.”

Harry took the opportunity to finally get a chance to savor his favorite dish. Luckily it was still warm and his chicken, so deliciously crispy. As he and Ron made good progress, he eyed Draco from the corner of his eye. The man’s phone had buzzed a few seconds ago and he was now looking intently at his screen.

He didn’t know Draco very well, even in school. What he did know was that the man used to be popular with the ladies. He had that cool guy aura to him and was a natural athlete. Not much of an academic performer obviously. But Harry had the distinct impression back then that the guy pretty much had everything going for him.

Yet judging by the crease in his eyebrows, the thin line of his lips, and his tense jaw, Draco was anything but happy at the moment. His fingers seemed to dig into the cover of his phone as his eyes traveled across the screen. 

It looked like the screen might actually crack under the pressure of Draco’s fingers, so Harry broke the silence. “Bad news, I take it?”

Draco placed his phone down with a thump. “Yeah, you could say that.” He rubbed the bristle on his chin with his palm. “So what were you guys talking about before I came in?”

A sly look cast at Ron, Harry grinned. “Girls.”

The two other men broke into chuckles. Ron leaned back, curling his arms behind him. “Or rather, the lack of one,” he chimed in as he winked.

Draco laughed quietly, his head moving from left to right. When the cheer died down, he added with a sigh, “It’s nice and fun to date girls. But remember to think twice before getting married, guys.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Harry tried to inject some humor into the conversation. “Wow, that’s the experience you get when you’re married. I guess I’ll stay happily single for a while. Right Ron?”

He looked over to his friend who now had a toothpick in his mouth, completely focused on removing whatever morsels of food was left. Ron had not picked up on his subtle hint to deviate away from the topic, choosing instead to dive right into murky waters. “Meh easy to say when you’re married to a pretty woman.”

Harry mentally face-palmed. 

“Not really.” Draco pinched his forehead. His voice was strained, an undercurrent of tension running through his words. “Me and Lynn have our problems too.”

“She’s such a nice lady though-”

Ron cut himself off, his mouth still open, as he caught Harry’s warning glare. His lips clamped shut and he cleared his throat. “Well umm… how did it go with Hermione by the way?” he directed his question to Harry in an attempt to salvage the conversation.

“Good,” Harry hurriedly replied. Then, remembering the incident at the pub, he frowned. “Not that good actually.”

Draco seemed to perk up at that. He turned, fixing Harry in an intense gaze. “What happened?”

Shifting in his seat, Harry’s gaze switched from Ron to Draco and then back again. “Well, we were having a great time when Fenrir- You know that teacher who looks more like a gangster?”

Both men nodded.

“He came to our table. And he flirted with Hermione.” Harry paused. “It obviously wasn’t the first time.”

He watched Draco, catching a flicker of quiet rage in the man’s eyes and the tensing in his jaw. A quick glance at the table where Draco’s arms lay showed that his fists were clenched so hard to the point that the knuckles turned white. 

It was normal to feel indignant at the harassment of someone you knew, but the aura surrounding Draco was almost akin to that of a seasoned serial killer. Blood lust that was clearly hidden behind a veil of indifference and pretense - it had Harry’s police senses tingling. 

“Then what happened?” Ron’s voice cut through Harry’s thoughts and he blinked a few times, trying to reorient himself. 

“Right,” Harry frowned. “Hermione was pretty shaken. And it seemed like Fenrir had cyber stalked her. So I threatened to take him to jail or something for that offense. He backed down and left after that. Thankfully.”

He eyed Draco as he finished his story. The man’s expression had returned to that of a silent observer. Harry marveled at the discipline and restraint shown but wondered if there wasn’t more to it than he was showing.

Draco shook his head, his lips curling in disgust. “What a bastard.”

Ron murmured his agreement, his expression also that of disdain.

“I know Hermione well,” Draco continued. “And I know she hates those kind of guys who come on too strongly. She doesn’t do too well with them.”

Giving an approving nod to Harry, Draco said, “That was good of you to put Fenrir in his place.”

“Thanks,” Harry said haltingly. He remembered Hermione hanging out with Draco during school days, which would explain why Draco knew so much about her. But something else bugged Harry. He opened his mouth, about to say something, when Draco’s phone buzzed loudly.

Draco took one look at the caller ID and cursed under his breath. “Sorry guys, I need to take this.”

Both Harry and Ron gestured at him to go ahead, although Draco had already answered. Ron engaged Harry in further small talk but soon, their attention was diverted back to Draco when he raised his voice in anger.

“Fine, yes. I read your fucking message already. Happy??”

Noticing that his conversation was distracting the two men, Draco gave a curt apology and got to his feet, his hand still cradling the phone to his ear. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“How about your takeout?” Ron called out.

Not seeming to have heard him, Draco hurriedly made his way out of the restaurant, his back hunched. Harry watched him cross the road, noticing the angry strides and the violent gestures of his hand as he continued to talk away to - who Harry presumed was - his wife, Lynn.

“What was that all about?” his friend exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Harry gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I think that was Lynn. She texted him just now. He read it and she’s probably scolding him for not replying after reading it… I think?”

Ron leaned forward, his eyes sparkling in admiration. “Wow you know all that from one line that he said??”

Cheeks turning a shade of red, Harry rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “I just picked it up from what he said before about thinking twice before marrying. Plus he said that after reading some message on his phone.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing,” Ron tutted, his voice full of awe. “No wonder you’re the policeman.”

A sense of pride bloomed in Harry’s chest. Ron might not be an expert and maybe his comment did not have much weight in it. But Harry pushed all that reasoning aside. He really did have the mettle to be a great policeman. Of that he was certain. And all his policeman instincts were screaming at him that there was something underway here. Maybe something that would help prove his ability to solve a case. He could only hope.


	25. Last Message 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's drinking binge brings back unwanted memories.
> 
> Who do you think that man with the camera is?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

Sprawled face down on the single two-seater couch in an oversized tee and baggy yoga pants, Hermione traced circles on the carpeted floor with the half-empty wine bottle in her hand. The drone of the television in front of her filled the, otherwise silent, living room with some semblance of liveliness. Through half-lidded eyes, she watched the couple on the flat television screen bicker but their shouted words did little to penetrate her mind.

Her gaze floated to the Steinway piano by the window, its empty seat yearning for her to sit at the instrument and run her fingers over the ivory keys to make it sing. She closed her eyes, blocking it from her vision. After the afternoon’s events, she had no room in her heart for music at this time.

Only room for more booze. Her fingers closed over the neck of the bottle and she lifted it to her lips. The liquid burned its way down her throat, bringing a soothing warmth to her body and a lightness to her mind. 

Hermione shifted her weight on the couch, its worn springs protesting under her body. Her grip loosened on the bottle and it tumbled to the floor with a tinkle. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, tracing the pattern on the wallpaper illuminated only by the glare from the television. 

As her eyes followed the spiral of the wallpaper, it reminded her of her own spiral downwards in life. How did she even end up here, she thought bitterly. A washed-up singer with nothing to her name, no one to come back home too. Just an aging beauty attracting the wrong people’s attention. 

Salty tears sprung up in the corner of her eyes. Using the back of her hand, she covered her moist eyes. She bit down on her trembling bottom lip as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She hated feeling this vulnerable over bastards like Fenrir. And the worst part of it was the guilt that nibbled at her. The feeling that somehow it was her fault instead of theirs.

“... it’s not my fault that you’re so provocative!” The gruff male voice echoed from the speakers.

Hermione rotated her head to face the screen. Through the misty veil of her tears, she watched the lanky male character pin a crying woman to the wall. The woman put up a weak struggle, which only made the man laugh in response. Her pathetic whimpering stirred a building whirlpool of rage in Hermione’s chest. 

Eyes narrowing, her vision blurred. Conflicting inner voices screamed in her head. The woman deserved it, one hissed. She should fight back, another hollered. She is just like me, the last one echoed, drowning out the rest.

Hermione shook her head vigorously, attempting to dismiss the words that resounded louder and louder in her ears. She was not like that woman. She was not like her slut of a mother either. She was not!

As the room spun around her, a shadow took shape behind her couch, its outline disturbingly familiar. Hermione froze. Her body stilled as the shadow morphed into the face of a man that haunted her dreams. 

Her alcohol-riddled mind blurred the details of his face but the thin-lipped smirk of his remained as clear as day. His lips parted and that husky voice of his drawled. “Since it’s just us now, why don’t you let me take some pictures of you eh?”

Fear gripped her heart tightly. Hermione opened her mouth to refuse, to scream, to cry for help - but her voice failed her. She shuddered as the man held up the professional camera hanging around his neck and pointed it at her. “Your mum left for work but I don’t think she’ll mind if we have a little fun.”

Fun. That’s what all of them wanted.

Revulsion churned her stomach. She scrabbled away from the shadow, her back rubbing against the armrest of the couch. Heart thumping ferociously in her chest, she swung her arm aimlessly around her to ward him off.

“D-don’t come near me!” she rasped, her throat dry.

The man tutted. As he approached her, he hiccuped, the stench of alcohol in his breath hitting her.

Finally finding the strength to rise to her feet, Hermione pushed herself up and stumbled away. Her legs were weak but she forged on, desperate to put some distance between him and herself. She held onto the walls, pushing herself forward as she swayed to and fro.

“Where are you going, sweetie pie??” he called out into the darkness.

Hermione huffed as she reached the front door, her trembling fingers almost slipping off the doorknob when she yanked it open. She slammed the door shut behind her and raced to the front gate, throwing it wide open.

Little by little of her strength returned and she pumped her legs faster. Sweat dripped down her skin as she left her home farther behind. She was not safe there anymore. Desperate to find someone to help, her mind latched onto the one name that resonated with warmth and security.

Draco.


	26. Last Message 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going down and dirty! Who would you say is at fault here?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

Just like that day more than two decades ago, she reached Draco’s home drenched in sweat and tears. The run had helped clear her addled head a little, allowing her to separate reality and hallucination. But the appearance of the man from her past still had a strong grip on her, hallucination or not.

Hermione trembled from the ghostly touch of the man’s words on her skin. She needed Draco, now more than ever. She needed to feel his arms around her. To be safe and secure with him by her side. 

When she rang the doorbell, he was the only thought she had. She rubbed her hands down her arms, shivering as her oversized tee and thin pants held no protection against the cold of the night. Footsteps echoed in the house in response and after a short while, the door opened.

“Draco!” she cried out.

A young teen stood at the doorstep, staring wide-eyed at her. “Miss Hermione?”

Confused, Hermione blinked away the sheen of moisture in her eyes. Who she first thought was Draco turned out to be his son, Tom.

“I’m sorry. My dad isn’t home yet. My mum isn’t either,” he said.

Disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach. In the midst of her fear and confusion, she had completely forgotten that Draco had a family. She muttered a quick apology and turned away hurriedly. But the abrupt motion flipped her queasy stomach and she bent over double, the contents of her dinner and alcohol binge emptying out on the front lawn.

“Miss Hermione! Are you okay?” 

She wobbled, unsteady on her feet. A firm grip on her arm returned her balance and she leaned into the warmth of the body appearing by her side. She looked up into the concerned face of the teen.

“You should come inside with me, Miss Hermione.”

His youthful voice shook Hermione out of her hallucination. Her head whipped to and fro in vehement rejection. She didn’t want to go into that house with Lynn’s presence marked all over it, reminding her of Draco’s betrayal.

“I can bring you back to your house then.”

No, that would be worse. She couldn’t go back there. Another shake of her head had Tom humming in thought. 

“Okay I know a place that’s just around here, if that’s fine?”

A small nod from her signaled her agreement. Tom hooked his arm under her shoulder to support her. She rested against his slight frame, relishing in the warmth that emanated from him. Slowly, they trudged around the house and towards the backyard. 

Hermione barely noticed where she was going as Tom led her down a small hill that lay behind the neighborhood of houses. She focused on the ground, her bare feet squelching the grass underneath. In her haste to leave her house, she had forgotten about shoes and a wandering thought to wash her feet flitted through her head.

When she looked up again, they were outside a small shed of sorts. It looked underused but she couldn’t see much under the moonlight. Tom pushed the door open with his foot and the two of them stumbled inside.

Tom closed the door and used his free hand to flick the light switch on the wall. After a second, a yellow glow flickered on, illuminating the small space. Tools and discarded pieces of wood and metal parts littered one corner of the shed. In the middle was an old, brown couch that was peeling in places and had holes punched into the cushion. 

“Sorry about the place, Miss Hermione.” Tom eased her down on the couch gently. “I use it sometimes but it normally houses junk. There’s running water though.”

Seeing her collapse back on the couch, Tom walked over to the other corner of the shed that housed a tiny sink. He fetched a small, red cloth from the wooden drawer above the sink. The tap squeaked as he turned it, water running down in a steady stream. After wetting the cloth, he brought it over to the couch and handed it to her.

Still in a state of trance, Hermione reached for it numbly and dabbed the cloth on her lips. As she rubbed the damp cloth over her chin, the teen settled into the seat beside her, the couch groaning and dipping downwards. 

“Do you have drinking water?” she croaked.

“No,” he replied apologetically. After a moment’s pause, he added in a sheepish tone, “But I have this.”

He leaned over the armrest and pulled a can out. Showing it to her, his eyes crinkled in an embarrassed smile. “I’m not sure it’ll help.”

Hermione’s eyes rolled over to the teen and the can he held up. It was beer. Probably part of his hidden stash away from his parents. The logical part of her sent a clear message to not drink more alcohol after she had tossed up all the contents of her stomach. 

To hell with being rational. She grabbed the can from Tom and opened it with a click. Tilting her head back, she gulped down the beer, letting it wash away part of the stench that filled her mouth and throat. When she was a third ways through the can, she stopped for a breather. 

Hermione let out a short belch. Her cheeks flushed red and once again, her vision swam. But the soothing high she got was not enough to fill the hole in her heart.

“A-are you okay, Miss Hermione?” Tom asked, concern and worry lacing his tone.

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping. “No I’m not.” 

The irritation at being addressed as a single non-attached lady caused her temple to pulse. She rubbed her forehead with her palm. “Stop calling me Miss Hermione. Just Hermione will do.”

“Sorry Miss-” He corrected himself, saying her name tentatively as if to feel the name rolling off his tongue. “Hermione.”

Even the way he enunciated her name reminded her of Draco. A sharp stab of pain coursed through her veins and she took another swig of the can. 

“Why is Draco never there?” she said bitterly as a sheen of fresh tears stung the corner of her eyes. “If he was there 20 years ago, things would have been different.”

Hermione’s fingers dug into the sides of the can. Her voice dropped an octave. “But he wasn’t there when I needed him the most.”

The teen was silent as she took another gulp of the beer. He watched her drown her sorrows, his lips forming a thin line. He added quietly, more to himself. “I understand. He’s never there for you.”

“Now look where he is.” Hermione’s voice cracked under emotion. “My best friend is his wife. And he has a kid.”

A humorless chuckle left her lips. “Look at me. What do I have?”

The question was left hanging in the air as she downed the rest of the beer. The can hung empty in her hand, just like her pathetic excuse of a life. She scrunched the can and let it fall to the wooden floor with a thunk.

“Nothing.” She answered her own question, her voice hollow and strained. “I have nothing left.”

The rapid downing of alcohol was slowing down the gears in her mind and body. A cloud hung over her head, her thoughts merging into a convoluted mess. She eagerly welcomed the loss of reasoning. If it could numb the pain, take away this emptiness inside, she would do anything. 

Hermione spun to face Tom, her face dotted with splotches of red. Tears clouded her vision.

“Why did he leave me?” she choked out.

Tom stared back in shock, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. Before he could react, Hermione lunged at him and he fell on his back, the cushion taking the brunt of his weight. She grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and yanked on it with surprising force.

“Tell me, Tom!” she cried. “You’re his son. You know him!”

Tears spilled from her eyes, hitting his cheeks. Her body shook as sobs wrecked through her slim frame. Losing her strength, her hands fell limply to rest on Tom’s chest. 

Her words slurred, she whimpered, “W-was it m-me? Was it my fault that he left?”

Hands clenched into fists, she pounded his chest. With each hit, Tom winced.

“You have his genes, right?” Hermione whined. “You’re like him. You should know, better than anyone.”

As her fist raised in the air, Tom’s arm shot up. His large hand wrapped around hers, holding it in a gentle but firm grip. His eyes shone with the burning intensity of a fire as he pulled himself up to a sitting position, his back resting against the armrest.

Tom leaned closer to Hermione until his breath tickled her skin. The strength of his gaze enraptured her, sucking her deep into the depths of his eyes. 

“I’m not like my dad,” he stated firmly, his words ringing with a sense of finality. “I’ll always be there for someone that I love.”

Hermione gasped, her breath stolen away from her. Bottom lip trembling, her eyes traveled over his visage. She reached out to him, her fingers trailing down his jaw line. Through her blurred vision, the man in front of her appeared to be Draco.

Breathless, she whispered with hope, “Say that again.”

“I’ll always be there for someone I love,” Tom repeated, his jaw firm.

A small cry of joy left her lips. Those words were what she longed to hear from Draco’s mouth for years. Her chest burst in elation. Blood rushed through her body, filling her with pure energy. The copious amount of alcohol in her system removed all inhibition. Driven by an urge that could not be explained, she leaned forward and pressed her plump lips to his. 

Her eyes closed, she felt his shock and initial resistance. But her hunger drove her tongue deeper into his mouth, exploring its confines and stimulating him until she felt him react with a similar longing. She pushed him, his back landing on the couch, and in one clean move, removed her tee. Her pants were the next to join the tee in a pile on the floor.

Before he could refuse her, she dipped her head down, her long hair tickling his face. She pressed kisses to his lips and then down his neckline. He squirmed, a groan rumbling his chest as she felt his pants tighten near his groin. Laying flush on top of him and pressing her breasts to his chest, she lifted her thighs up and hurriedly pulled his loose pants down, releasing his already hard member.

She pushed herself up on her elbows. Through half-lidded eyes filled with lust and pent-up longing, she looked upon him with love. As she kissed him tenderly, one hand guided his member to her opening and she lowered herself on him.

His moan was muffled by her lips and as the two of them moved in sync, she gazed deeply into his eyes, seeing not Tom, but Draco. Even as both of them reached their climax moments later, her mind was knowingly tricked into believing that she was making love to Draco. And in that moment, everything was perfect as she laid in her one and only love’s arms.


	27. 3D Presence 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CAMEO: SamAbramov from @fortunusgames 's historical drama comic that's packed with wisdom. Check it out!  
> https://tapas.io/series/Sam-in-New-York/info
> 
> Kyler gives insight into Tom's mind but Lupin is perplexed by the contradictory signs.
> 
> Who could Tom possibly be obsessed with?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

**May 30 202X**

_  
**15:52**  
@kai: Thought you guys might wanna know.   
www.timestoday.com/server-leak-throws-doubt-on-politician-affair.html_

_@herm4ever: Ahh I’m rushing to lab now! But I’m like dying to know??? Can you summarize pretty pls??_

_**15:55**  
@kai: Someone hacked into that politician’s servers. Among other stuff, they found emails from Hermione. Didn’t say much in the article but the gist is that she blackmailed him._

_@herm4ever: *gasps* Wait what?? I don’t get it! Blackmail for what?_

_**16:01**  
@kai: Don’t ask me. The affair got leaked out, her reputation was at stake, so she wanted monetary compensation. That’s the story._

_@herm4ever: Unnhhh but but I mean… like it’s true her reputation is affected. Doesn’t mean the affair actually happened, right?? So it kinda makes sense she wants compensation._

_**16:03**  
@kai: Sounds to me like the affair did happen. Or else how could she blackmail him with photos._

_@herm4ever: No no no something must be wrong here. I don’t believe it!_

_**16:06**  
@kai: Whatever. Just read it for yourself after your lab._

_**16:53**  
@modthebod: Always believe in Hermione. There is always a reasonable explanation, affair or not. She will never let us down.  
_

This was, by far, the easiest session he had with Kyler. Scratch that, the easiest session with any student. Behind his owl-rimmed glasses, Lupin suppressed the large grin that threatened to spread his lips to the far corners of his face. He settled for a relaxed smile, not wanting to creep the young teen girl out.

He had no idea what had put her in such a good mood but she was more open to him today. Her answers to his questions were longer than two sentences, which was a significant achievement. After checking in on her about her studies - no problems as usual - and how her parents were doing - no difference either, unfortunately, he moved on to ask her about her latest poetry.

That had gotten her really talking. The urgency in her tone told Lupin of her desperate need to tell someone about something that had happened. He held back the surge of questions that filled his chest and patiently read her new poem. 

He raised an eyebrow as his observant eyes scanned through the handwritten lines. It was about first love, which was telling.

“Beautiful, really beautiful, Kyler,” he crooned, to which the teen beamed.

Lupin handed the paper back to her. “Did you show it to anyone yet?”

As she folded it with care and tucked it away, she mumbled, “Just to Tom.” The telltale shade of pink that dotted her cheeks gave her feelings away. 

At the mention of that name, Lupin’s shoulders tensed. Tom. The guy who Percy had brought to his attention for being possessive. This was the perfect time to find out more.

“How did he react?” he prodded in a gentle tone.

Kyler’s lips pursed. Her soft eyes gazed into the distance. Lupin could see the cogs in her mind turning as she recalled what happened.

“He took some time to read it.” Her head tilted to the side and her gaze dropped to the floor.

“He was a bit..” She paused, searching for the right word. “Distracted, I think.”

Hunched in her seat, she twiddled her thumbs. She sucked in her bottom lip as if to find the courage to tell him more. When her lips finally parted, her low voice was riddled with hesitance. “I asked him what he thought. And he just said it looked good. Then he went back to doing homework.”

Kyler’s eyes shot up to meet Lupin’s gaze. Desperation drove her to ask her first question to the counsellor, hope and anxiety coursing through her young voice. “W-what do you think he really felt? Did he understand or was he just polite?”

Pleasantly surprised, Lupin lifted his eyebrows. He folded his arms on the table and hummed in thought. “It’s hard for me to tell at the moment.” He picked his words carefully. “Maybe if I knew a bit more about his background and your normal interaction with him, I could be of help.”

A little disappointed at not having an immediate answer, Kyler dropped her gaze and her shoulders slumped. But she still held hope. She nodded, her determination showing in her bright eyes and firm voice. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

Lupin leaned back in his armchair. The door to ask any question he liked was wide open. Resisting the urge to smirk, he tented his fingers and pondered his first question.

“Well, for starters, maybe you could tell me how he usually acts around his parents? Siblings?”

Kyler shook her head. “He doesn’t have siblings. Parents… well, he’s close to his mum. Not close to his dad. They don’t get along.”

“Do you know why he doesn’t get along with his dad?”

“No.. Tom doesn’t talk about him. And I don’t ask.”

“How does he act with his mum?”

Eyebrows scrunched, Kyler reached for words. Her lips opened and closed as she struggled to form a proper description. Seeing that she couldn’t give an answer, Lupin rephrased the question. “Or rather what makes you say that he’s close to his mum?”

This time, it didn’t take long for her to reply, “I see him hugging her sometimes.”

“I see,” Lupin replied. It was a bit uncommon for a teenage boy to hug his mother but maybe he was less embarrassed than his peers to display affection.

“Sometimes, he clings to her or wraps his arms around her shoulders,” she added after some thought.

Quirking an eyebrow, Lupin gave a small questioning hum. That was interesting. When he was a younger boy himself, he would occasionally hug or give a loving peck on his mother’s cheeks. But that was as far as he went. Maybe Tom expressed his emotions more when it came to people he liked.

Although if that was the case, Lupin worried about how Tom would act around people he was obsessed with. Certainly he would display his feelings even more aggressively. Concern clouded Lupin’s mind.

“That’s very helpful, Kyler,” he encouraged the teen. “How about other friends? Tom’s male and female friends?”

Another shake of her head was given. “He doesn’t have other friends.”

“Except me, that is.” Her cheeks reddened as she uttered those words and her eyes flitted all over the floor.

Two loners together. Lupin sighed inwardly. It sounded like a recipe for disaster. 

“I see. So the two of you have each other,” he said. “How do you two normally interact? Have you had a meal with him before or gone out - just the two of you?”

Kyler’s eyes widened at the suggestion that she had been on a date with Tom. A darker red stained her cheeks as she bit her lips. Fingers digging into the skirt of her uniform, she shook her head vigorously. “N-no, we haven’t eaten together or g-gone out.”

She gave a frustrated wave of her hand. “We just… do our homework and projects together. I go to his house and then my parents or Valerie pick me up after that.”

A chuckle rumbled Lupin’s chest. “That’s normal for students. It’s a good start, Kyler.”

The girl lifted her head to meet his gaze. A shy smile broke across her lips and she dipped her head in acknowledgement.

“So how does he behave around you when you guys work together?” Lupin pushed on. “Smile a lot? Talks more?”

“Not really.” She trailed off. “I mean he’s a quiet person.”

Lupin’s forehead creased in puzzlement. Surely he should show some sign if he liked Kyler. He tried asking for other indicators. “Does he look at you a lot? Or maybe blush? Or act nervous and tense?”

Kyler mulled over each question. After a moment, she gave a dejected shake of her head. “No. None of that.”

Behind his glasses, Lupin’s eyes widened. He was at a loss. The facts swirled in his mind without settling into a conclusion. Was he missing something?

The shrill ring of the school bell pierced through his train of thought. His leg jerked in response and he leaned forward in his seat. He had to quickly wrap this up with Kyler. Flashing one of his disarming smiles, he used his bedside manner to soothe her. “Well, some people express their feelings in a different manner. It’s hard to tell.”

An idea formed in his mind. “Maybe if you can get Tom to come and see me, I could find out more by myself.”

Kyler perked up at his suggestion. Her morose expression morphed into one of hope. Eyes dancing, she nodded her assent. “I-I’ll try and see.” 

She stood up to leave but paused for a moment. 

“Thank you,” she said softly, her words rolling off her tongue like honey. 

“My pleasure, Kyler.” Lupin threw her a warm smile, watching as she left his office with a skip in her step.

Once the door closed behind her, the smile disappeared from his lips. Frowning, he spun around in his chair. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. If Tom was really obsessed about a girl, the signs would be obvious. He didn’t doubt that Percy was lying about Tom, and he believed Kyler to be perceptive enough to answer him accurately. 

That left only one possible explanation to this situation. The person Tom was obsessed with was not Kyler. But if it wasn’t Kyler, then who was it?


	28. 3D Presence 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom almost hurts Hermione but she's saved by the bell, literally.
> 
> Who do you think is the mysterious figure?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

No one liked to visit the school backyard because a secondary forest lay right behind the wire fence - snakes and ghosts lurked within it, or so the stories said. Any soul who entered the area would be tainted or hurt. 

Adults passed it off as superstition, reasoning that it wasn’t well-tended to, but let the kids believe in such nonsense. It kept them out of trouble and so far, it worked on even the most rebellious of teens.

Its seclusion was why Hermione had chosen this spot to meet. Yet she cast a furtive gaze around as she paced the length of the empty backyard. Biting down on her bottom lip, she glanced down at her phone. 

It was only two minutes past their arranged meeting time. Hermione cursed under her breath. Letting out a long sigh, she told herself to keep her cool. He was probably held back by something. She might as well use the time to prepare her speech - if you could call it that.

“Okay okay,” she muttered to herself. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

Ask him how he is. Apologize. Explain the circumstances. Ask whether he told anyone. Make sure he doesn’t. Ever.

Her fingers curled into a fist. Lips pursed into a thin line, she composed herself. He was just a high school student. It couldn’t be as hard as dealing with a politician.

The sound of labored breathing jerked her out of her thoughts. Her head snapped up just as Tom rounded the corner. Forehead dripping with sweat, Tom panted as he bent down with his hands on his knees. His shoulder bag slipped down, its strap digging into the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I got… held up… after class,” he wheezed between breaths.

“That’s fine.” Hermione folded her arms across her chest and ran through her speech in her head. “So umm how are you?”

“Yeah fine.” Getting his breath back, he inhaled deeply. When he straightened back up, Hermione had to tilt her neck upwards to look into his eyes. He towered over her and despite his soft eyes, a shudder rippled through her body.

She cleared her throat and thrust her chest out in an effort to appear more domineering. “About the other night, Tom.”

The teen’s eyes widened before flitting to the ground. Heat bloomed on his cheeks as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“I’m sorry about..” Hermione trailed off, unable to put what had happened into words. “You know, that thing between us.”

Tom shuffled his feet, refusing to look at her. Guilt washed over Hermione and she hurried to explain. “I-I really shouldn’t have forced myself on you. I was drunk and vulnerable and you just happened to be there.”

Tom stilled. Tension rolled off his body like waves. Hermione gulped hard as her heart hammered in her chest. Her hands fell to her side and she wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt.

“I never should have taken advantage of you. I’m really sorry, Tom.” She tried to catch his gaze, hoping that the sincerity in her voice shone through.

When he didn’t respond, anxiety coursed through her veins. She wrung her hands together and took a cautious step towards the teen. Spikes of nervousness penetrated her tone when she spoke up. “Did you… tell anyone about this?”

He was silent.

“Did you tell your parents?” she probed, the rising inflection in her tone betraying her fear. 

Tom raised his head in a deliberate slow motion. His eyes met hers for the first time and she gasped. Pure rage burned in the deep depths of his irises. The air thickened as his fiery gaze burnt into her skin. 

“No.” His voice dripped with wild, untamed energy.

Shivers ran down her spine. She was frozen to the spot, dragged into the inferno that swirled around him. Shock paralyzed her as her mind struggled to process the change from shy youth to menacing man.

“I would never.” He emphasized through gritted teeth. “Never. Tell them about this.”

His gaze held her in place, drowning her in the abyss of his irises. She was robbed of breath but she forced out a shaky “Okay”.

Tom closed in on her until he was inches away from touching her. Her skin prickled with fear, the hair on her nape rising. It took all of her energy to stop her knees from buckling under her. 

A wild thought crossed her mind that she was going to be killed right then. Why had she chosen such a quiet place?? She forced out a scream but it died on her lips as he raised his hand. Fearing the end was near, she squeezed her eyes shut. Blood pounded in her ears.

One second passed. Then two.

Hermione gathered up her courage. Her eyelid fluttered open. 

Tom’s intense gaze no longer rested on her. She opened both eyes cautiously. The pounding in her ears receded until she could hear that he was talking on the phone. His voice was low, his words curt.

After a moment, he hung up and stuffed his phone into his pocket. He threw her a side glance. The malicious energy surrounding him had dissipated but his eyes still glowed with intensity.

“My dad’s here. I gotta go,” he muttered. He didn’t wait for her to answer. He spun around and stalked off, leaving her rooted to the spot.

When the sound of his footsteps died, Hermione released a shaky breath. Her legs quivered. Unsteady, she crouched down. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she broke down in tears. Sobs wracked her body in uncontrollable spasms. She let it all out until her throat was dry and hoarse.

As her sobs morphed into little hiccups, she pushed herself up shakily. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand when a twig snapped. The sound echoed in the eerie quiet like a gunshot. Her head jerked to the trees behind the fence, eyes scouring the dark shadows that lurked in the wilderness.

Her heart raced in her chest as she frantically searched for the silent intruder. Seconds passed and she didn’t hear or see anything. 

It must have been a trick of the mind, she told herself. She pushed away the doubt clouding her mind and hurried away, putting distance between her and the backyard. 

It was only when she was gone that a figure moved out of the shadows of the trees, crawled in through a hole in the fence, and stood in the very spot that she stood. The mysterious figure bent down and touched a finger to the ground. Bringing it up, the figure inhaled deeply.

It was still warm.


	29. 3D Presence 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco flares up again after receiving a phone call from Lynn.
> 
> What do you think of the relationship between the married couple?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

“What took you so long?” Draco rebuked his son as the gangly teen clambered into the multi-purpose vehicle. The brief rush of clean air as the car door opened and slammed shut lessened the musty odor in the vehicle.

“Stuff.”

Draco put the car into gear and stepped on the accelerator. The old vehicle shuddered and jerked forward. As he spun it around the parking lot, he shot a side glance at Tom in the passenger seat. The teen’s elbow rested on the ledge of the door, his head cupped in his hand as he looked out the window. At his feet, his brown shoulder bag lay in a crumple. A picture of Joker decorated the bag, the clown-like face smiling up at Draco with crooked lips caused by the folds.

The crumpled bag told Draco enough about his son. That bag was a present from Lynn. Tom loved it - in his own way. Discarding it on the car floor instead of leaving it on his lap hinted at the teen’s volatile mood.

“Bad stuff, I take it.” Draco said gruffly.

Tom didn’t respond, as expected. It was the common response of most teenagers but Draco felt a twinge of irritation. 

“Look, I can help you deal with whatever it is. But you have to tell me the problem,” he reasoned with his son.

“I don’t need your help,” Tom replied, his words dripping with acid.

Draco bit down the urge to give his son a good tongue-lashing. He fixed his gaze on the road ahead of him and kept his voice even. “You’re lucky to have any help at all, Tom. When I was young, my parents were worthless pieces of shit. I had to solve everything myself.”

He stole a glance at Tom. The teen’s head hadn’t even moved. He couldn’t see Tom’s face, so he continued talking. “Now I’m offering you help and you don’t even want to take it. What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Tom scoffed as he angled his head to meet Draco’s gaze. “When I do ask you for help, you say it’s silly and that I should solve it myself. When I don’t ask you for help, you complain and say I should ask.”

Draco jabbed a warning finger in Tom’s direction. “Don’t you talk back at me, young man. I know what’s best for you.”

Tom’s lips parted as if to protest but then immediately clamped shut. The teen swiveled his head back to face the window but the anger rolling off of him didn’t subside.

“And by the way, the problem you needed help with was really silly.” Draco chortled. “You wanted me to take you for a haircut!”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Tom grumbled under his breath.

“Yes, yes, your form teacher said your hair was getting too long.” Waving it off, Draco swung the car into the overtaking lane. The hum of the engine increased and Draco had to raise his voice to be heard. “You couldn’t just go to Wayne’s barber shop down the road from the school, could you?”

Tom scowled. “I don’t like Wayne.”

“Right.” Draco sniggered. “Because he’s friendly and likes teasing you about what girl you like. And of course you couldn’t go to the other salon in town.”

“They don’t cut well.”

“And you couldn’t go to the hairdresser just out of town.”

“Too far.”

“And you couldn’t hitch a ride with a friend.”

Tom kept quiet. 

After overtaking a few slow pokes, Draco decreased his speed. Leaving one hand on the steering wheel, he pinched his forehead with the other. “You have to solve these kinds of simple problems by yourself. You can’t always run to your mother for help.”

With his gaze still on the road, Draco didn’t notice the tension that ran through his son’s body. “Damn, if I hadn’t stopped her, she would have come running home to take you to the hairdresser after you called her.”

Seeing no other vehicles in the vicinity, Draco floored the accelerator. Raising his voice above the hum of the engine, he nagged his son. “You gotta be more like a man, Tom. And don’t just spend time with Kyler, for Christ’s sake. Go and hang out with other guys.”

Draco brought the car to a screeching stop as the traffic light ahead changed from orange to red. In the relative quiet that followed, Draco sighed. His shoulders sagged. Resting his arm on the steering wheel, he looked like he had aged another ten years. 

“I should have forced you to spend more time with other kids when you were young,” he said. “But oh no, your mother had to coax you every time you cried or complained-”

A sharp ring pierced through his words. 

“Who is it now?” Grumbling, Draco grabbed his phone out of the cup holder. His eyes took in the caller ID and he muttered to himself, “Speak of the devil.”

By his side, Tom’s fingers curled into a fist on his lap. He didn’t move but his ears tuned into the conversation.

“What now?” Draco said by way of answering the call.

He listened to Lynn prattle on anxiously about something at work but only half of it made sense to him. He cut her short. “Just get to the point.”

She turned quiet. After a second or two, she broke the news and ended it with an apology. Draco’s fingers dug into the scratches in the steering wheel. The anger in his voice was barely contained. “So you can’t even get someone to switch shifts with you on that weekend?”

Excuses poured over the line, Tom being one of them. The more she spoke, the more Draco’s rage was fueled. His ears turning red, he slammed a palm down on the steering wheel. Tom’s shoulder twitched at the sound but the teen focused on the field outside his window.

“We planned for that weekend ages ago, Lynn!” Draco yelled down the line. “It was for us. Even you said we needed it!”

Listening to her weak reasons, he shook his head over and over again. “No, no, you listen to me, you stupid, overprotective woman. He needs to grow up by himself!”

Tom stiffened. With nowhere to direct his anger to, he glared out the window, wishing that the fields would burst into flames. 

The traffic light turned green. A honk from the truck behind them cut through Draco’s rants. Still listening to Lynn on the other end, he struggled to shift his attention back to driving. More impatient honking ensued, driving the temperature in the car up several notches as the two male occupants grew more furious.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m moving!” Draco barked, despite the fact that the truck driver could not hear him.

Tom squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the blood pound against his eyelids. His chest rose and fell in tandem with his increasing heartbeat. The incessant noise around him faded until all he could hear was his own breathing.

“Lynn, I’m hanging up.” Draco ended the call, cutting her protests short, and jammed the phone back into the cup holder. Muttering a string of curses, he shifted into gear and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The car lurched forward like a drunkard before picking up speed.

As they left the trucker behind, Draco’s stream of rants continued. Stuck in his own thoughts, he was oblivious to his son who had not budged an inch.

Tom let his rage envelop him, consume him, until there was nothing left but a ringing in his ears. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal and he opened his eyes. The burning intensity in his irises was extinguished with cold indifference.

When Draco finally realized his son was no longer fuming, he believed everything to be well and that Tom was simply going through a teenage mood swing. 

That was his mistake.


	30. 3D Presence 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry bonds with Shawn and more information about Hermione appears on the Internet.
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

To say he was shocked after receiving a phone call from his nephew would be a gross understatement. Harry was dumbfounded. He had expected Luna on the line. When Shawn’s hesitant voice drifted down the line to ask for tutoring, pride and excitement filled his heart. Not once had he imagined his nephew would willingly ask for help with his studies.

Bursting with enthusiasm, it took Harry the rest of his shift to study up on Chemistry and Biology. For the first time, the lack of activity at the police station was a blessing. He pored over online texts and pulled up old homework he had done from the dusty confines of his cloud drive. By the time he reached Luna’s doorstep, he was half-confident he could help Shawn with anything the teen threw at him.

When the door opened to reveal his sister with bed hair, the radiance in her aura must have matched his own. Her disheveled clothes did nothing to hide the smile plastered on her face.

“Why, if it isn’t my kid brother,” she teased. “Come in, Harry.”

Grinning, he followed her into her house. As he slipped his uniform boots off, he tucked the file of papers he had compiled under his arm. “This is a real surprise, Luna. Shawn calling me about homework.”

“Yeah, it sure is,” she chuckled as she leaned against the metal staircase railing. “I thought he was joking at first.”

Harry straightened and pointed a finger towards the kitchen. “Mind if I get a glass of water?”

“Sure, let me get it for you.” Luna strode down the hall, Harry trailing her.

The kitchen was in a mess. All sorts of vegetables and meats covered the island table. Plates, bowls, and pots took up the other counter surfaces. The tantalizing smell of different spices wafted up to his nose, stimulating his empty stomach. Harry pushed aside a bowl filled with garlic, making enough room for him to place his hands on the table.

“Food preparation for tomorrow?” His gaze scoured the ingredients and half-made dishes.

Luna hummed in reply as she rummaged in the cupboard for a glass. “A bit of experimentation too. I need a new dish for the upcoming festival.”

“Oh right, that’s coming up soon.” Spying a plate of freshly breaded chicken, Harry snuck a piece into his mouth.

With her back to him, Luna warned, “Don’t eat too much, or else I’ll have you clean up the place as punishment.”

“Shit,” Harry mumbled. He swore his sister had eyes implanted in the back of her head.

Luna turned around and placed a glass of warm water in front of him. “And yes, I do have eyes everywhere.”

When Harry’s eyes bulged in surprise, she gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Now get your ass up there and help Shawn out. I trust you brushed up on your knowledge.”

He eyed her with suspicion, still wondering how she could read his mind. “Yeah don’t worry, I read up.” He patted the file in his hand. 

“By the way.” He scooped up the glass of water in one hand. “Any idea what made Shawn reach out to me?”

Luna’s shoulders rolled in a shrug. “Nope. No idea at all.”

“At this point, I don’t really care,” she added with a grin.

Harry laughed and lifted his glass in a toast. “I can roll with that.”

“You do what you were doing.” He gestured with a tilt of his head. “I’ll go up and see Shawn.”

“Go ahead,” she called out as he backed out of the kitchen. 

~ ~ ~

Harry turned on his heels and walked down the hallway. Behind him, the sound of Luna’s merry whistling filled the house with a cheeriness that warmed his heart. If only this atmosphere could be permanent instead of the stifling tension between mother and son. 

The problem was that Shawn spent too much time on his phone or in school activities when he should be focusing on his studies instead. The teen insisted that what he did - networking and information gathering - was important. The younger generation boggled Harry's mind.

As he climbed the staircase to the second floor, he heard a loud thumping sound. Guessing it must be Shawn, he skipped up the last few steps. The second-floor landing was spacious but empty. Attached to the wall at the back was a small basketball net. To the right was Luna’s bedroom and a bathroom, to the left was Shawn’s bedroom and study room.

The thumping sound continued. It was louder, clearer, and definitely emanating from Shawn’s study room. He headed for the door, knocking below the sign that said “Enter at your own risk”.

“Shawn?” he called out. “It’s me, Harry.”

The sound stopped. “Come in!”

Harry opened the door and stepped in, elbowing the door shut. Shawn stared up at him from his swivel chair, one hand rubbing the red spot on his forehead. He sighed despondently, “Hey Uncle Harry. Have a seat.”

Harry poked around the clutter of books, crumpled clothes, and gaming CDs. He found the stool sandwiched near the unmade bed. Hooking a leg under the stool, he pulled it up beside Shawn. He placed his file and glass of water down on the computer table. 

“How’s my favorite nephew doing?” He ruffled Shawn’s mop of hair.

The teen’s shoulders slumped. He swiveled to face the computer screen. “Not good,” he groaned. “I’m still stuck.”

“Where did that come from?” Harry pointed to the red Draco tainting Shawn’s forehead.

Shawn rubbed the little bump that was forming. “Banging my head on the desk to make something click.”

Having found the source of the sound from before, Harry chuckled. “That won’t help. I tried before.”

“Great minds think alike, huh.” His nephew managed a thin smile.

Harry clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Alright, then. Show me the problem.”

The teen nodded. Pointing to the computer screen, Shawn explained the assignment question to Harry. After listening attentively to his nephew, Harry summoned all his knowledge to talk through the solution. 

A soft tinkle from Shawn’s phone stole the teen’s attention away from Harry for a few seconds. Choosing to ignore his nephew’s distracted antics, Harry continued on. By the third ping, Harry had enough.

“Shawn.” He kept his voice even with a hint of authority. “I can’t help you if you keep checking your phone.”

The teen’s head jerked up, his eyes wide. A shade of pink tinted his cheeks. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“I’ll turn it to silent mode,” he added. With a few flicks of his finger, the phone buzzed in response. He set it down on the table and pushed it out of sight.

Satisfied, Harry’s lips crinkled into a smile. “Great. Now let’s figure this out.”

~ ~ ~

Without any further distractions, the two guys huddled together, writing down equations and crossing some out. They inched closer and closer to a solution until half an hour later when Harry cried out triumphantly. Harry looked at Shawn who was grinning ear-to-ear and felt a sense of accomplishment bloom in his chest. 

“Quick. Key it in and see if we’re right,” he urged the teen with a thump on his back.

Shawn nodded vigorously. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed in the solution they had arrived at. One press of the “Enter” button had both guys holding their breath as the server verified their answer. 

Seconds later, a green tick appeared on the screen. Shawn whooped, Harry pumped his fist in the air, and the two shared a painful high-five. As they slumped back down in their seats, happy and exhausted, Harry glanced over at Shawn. “That was great, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. That was awesome, Uncle Harry!” Shawn laughed.

Seizing the opportunity to change his nephew’s habits, Harry said in a light tone, “Studying is this fun when you put your mind to it and do it with other people.”

Shawn picked up on Harry’s badly veiled attempt and rolled his eyes. “I see what you’re doing there, you know.”

“Okay, okay. Guilty.” Grimacing, Harry lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “But really, wasn’t that fun?”

The teen was silent for a moment. “It’s not like I don’t want to study properly, you know. It’s just,” he paused for thought. “I can’t stop being distracted by stuff.”

Harry pondered over his nephew’s words. “Maybe you need someone to hold you accountable, like what I did. Someone who makes sure you don’t reach for your phone or computer.”

“Probably not your mum,” he added as an afterthought.

Shawn nodded in agreement. His eyebrows furrowed as he ran through a list of people. “Maybe Valerie?”

At the mention of the girl’s name, Harry recalled the slander incident with Hermione. He frowned, uncomfortable with her influence over Shawn. Trying to be gentle, he said, “Anyone else you could try?”

Shawn’s expression dropped in disappointment. “I know you don’t like her, Uncle Harry. But you know, she was the one who egged me on to ask you for help.”

Without any further distractions from Shawn's phone, both uncle and nephew huddled together. Harry wrote down equations, crossing some out when Shawn pointed out the errors. Closer and closer, they inched to a solution. 

Half an hour later, Harry cried out triumphantly. He looked at Shawn who was grinning ear-to-ear. A sense of accomplishment bloomed in his chest. 

“Quick. Key it in and see if we’re right,” he urged the teen with a thump on his back.

Shawn nodded vigorously. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed in the solution they had arrived at. One press of the “Enter” button had both guys holding their breath as the server verified their answer. 

Seconds later, a green tick appeared on the screen. Shawn whooped, Harry pumped his fist in the air, and the two shared a painful high-five. As they slumped back down in their seats, happy and exhausted, Harry glanced over at Shawn. “That was great, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. That was awesome, Uncle Harry!” Shawn laughed.

Seeing the teen so excited made him see a glimpse of hope. Maybe even a tiny possibility for change. He seized the opportunity. Trying to sound casual, he said, “Studying is fun when you put your mind to it with other people.”

Shawn picked up on Harry’s badly veiled attempt in a second. He rolled his eyes. “I see what you’re doing there, you know.”

“Okay, okay. Guilty.” Grimacing, Harry lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “But be honest. Wasn’t that fun?”

The teen was silent for a moment. “It’s not like I don’t want to study properly, you know. It’s just,” he paused for thought. “I can’t stop being distracted by stuff.”

Harry pondered over his nephew’s words. “Maybe you need someone to hold you accountable, like what I did. Someone who makes sure you don’t reach for your phone or computer.”

“Not your mum,” he added as an afterthought.

Shawn nodded in agreement. His eyebrows furrowed as he ran through a list of people. “Maybe Valerie?”

At the mention of the girl’s name, Harry recalled the slander incident with Hermione. He frowned, uncomfortable with her influence over Shawn. He hummed in thought. “Anyone else you could try?”

Shawn’s expression dropped. Disappointment twisted his lips. “I know you don’t like her, Uncle Harry. But you know, she was the one who egged me on to ask you for help.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “Valerie did that? Why?”

“I was ranting to her about how Mum’s stupid colleagues always get on her case because of my exam results.” Embarrassed, the teen looked away and cleared his throat. “I felt it was my fault but didn’t know what to do. So she suggested asking you.”

Shawn’s confession surprised him on many levels. For a long time, Luna's pleas were always met with indifference from the teen. That must have been an outward display to seem cool. Shawn seemed genuinely affected. Plagued by guilt and the inability to improve his studies, the burden on his shoulders must be stifling. 

Harry felt a wrench of pity for his nephew. If he had known what the teen was thinking, he could have helped him out earlier. To that point, Valerie was another surprising young one. He never expected the rebellious girl to have so much sense. Maybe behind the bitchy aura that she exuded lay a kind, mature woman. 

A smile split his lips. He chuckled. “Get Valerie’s help then, if you think it’ll work out.”

“You're okay with it?” Shawn grinned, his cheeks flushing red. “Cool!”

The joy reflected in Shawn’s expression had Harry’s heart bursting with love. His chest rumbled with laughter as he ruffled his nephew’s hair. This time, Shawn broke into a wide smile, the cloud over his head now lifted.

Harry got up and stretched his arms. “Well then! I guess it’s time for a break.”

~ ~ ~

After stretching part of his unused brain muscles for an extended period of time, Harry needed a short rest. He picked up the empty glass, having drained the water long ago. “I’m going to grab some water. You need anything from the kitchen?”

“Nah.” Shawn grabbed the can of soda by the side of his computer and shook it. “Still got some left.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Harry winked.

“Take your time,” Shawn called out in a sing-song voice as Harry left the room.

The moment the door closed, Shawn snatched his phone off the table. Eager fingers swiped through the various apps he kept open. Minutes may have passed in the real world but thousands of information tidbits would have flown through the cyber world. His greedy eyes glinted with excitement as he scrolled through his feed. 

Photos of his friends and schoolmates flashed past. Nothing interesting to take note of. He spared only a few seconds of his attention to the videos and gifs. Half-way through the long scrollbar, he noticed an intriguing link.

_www.timestoday.com/server-leak-throws-doubt-on-politician-affair.html_

His brow furrowed as he skimmed through the article. He didn’t trust the reported information at face value. Too many things on the Internet could be fake. His nimble fingers danced across the small screen as he pulled up different links. With discerning eyes, he scanned the text for telltale signs of fabricated information. The final link he landed on was a mirror site for a reputable server that published news leaks and classified media.

Shawn studied the content. He noted the writing style, language, timestamp, and edits. As his mind reached the conclusion that the information was accurate, his heart sank. He gulped hard. His eyes flitted over the screen as he re-read the article again.

His grip on the phone tightened. If this published email was indeed sent by Hermione, if the photos were not faked…

His mind raced as he tried to figure out how to handle this new piece of information. What bothered him the most was how Uncle Harry would react. Hermione meant nothing to him but she was important to his uncle. Despite his belief that the information was not fake, there was still a possibility that it was a ploy by the politician’s enemies. So what was the point in telling Uncle Harry and making him worry?

“Hey, I brought you some snacks.” Harry’s buoyant voice cut through his thoughts.

Shawn flicked the article away and threw his phone to one side as if it were a ticking bomb.

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. “It’s okay. You can use your phone during breaks.”

A sigh of relief escaped Shawn’s lips. He forced a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. 

This wasn’t the time to tell his uncle yet. Not until he found concrete evidence.


	31. Hidden Profiles 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)
> 
> Lupin has an interesting session with Percy and Percy hints to something big happening in the school. What could that be??

**June 3 202X**

_**06:06**  
@modthebod: To hell with everything. Fucking people should just die._

_**08:45**  
@herm4ever: Oh no!!! What happened @modthebod?? Sorry, I like just got up and stuff. _

_**10:12**  
@kai: ?_

_@herm4ever: Omg he still hasn’t answered??! Like is he ok?? I hope he’s fine, omg.._

_**10:14**  
@kai: Calm down. He’s just having a fit._

_@herm4ever: But but it’s scary! Like maybe he- omg I don’t even wanna say it._

_@kai: Meh. Just give him some time._

_@herm4ever: Okie. *prays everything is fine*_

_**17:46**  
@modthebod: I’m still here, you idiot. I’m not the one who should die. It’s *some* people who ought to DIE. Anyway, I’m gonna be inactive for a while._

_**18:00**  
@kai: ...See, he’s fine. _

_@herm4ever: Ahh phew~ Sorry @modthebod! I was just like freaking out. Hope you feel ok after this!!_

Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his fatigued eyes. What was wrong with this week? First, it was Kyler with her worrying insight about Tom who was allegedly a possessive guy. Today, it was Percy. 

His eyes fluttered open, resting on the teen seated across from him. Hunched over, Percy’s thick arms pushed into the leather armchair. The teen kept his gaze on the carpet as his sneakers dug into the thick material. He had not spoken a word since storming into Lupin’s office. 

Percy was always a trying character but it was far worse today. For the first time, Percy had shoved back at one of the bullies, earning him a bruise on the cheek. He also lashed out at his maths teacher, which was atypical of the quiet teen. All of that had landed him here.

But it wasn’t just the out-of-character actions that worried Lupin. The teen's brooding aura elevated the veteran counsellor’s concern to an alarming level. His experienced eye could tell that it wasn’t the typical teenage angst. Something darker and more primal lurked under the bangs that hid Percy’s eyes.

It wasn't the same aggression as a bully or a wayward teen. This was different. Purposeful, directed, vengeful. He could sense it in the tension rolling off Percy’s shoulders, the anger grinding the teen’s jaws together. Yet the way the air pulsed with electricity was not unfamiliar.

He searched his memory for the incident that triggered that same sensation. It didn't take him long. Fenrir. That slimy bastard gave him the same creeps, his actions charging the air with that same tension. 

A stab of ice slid down Lupin's spine. The connection between Percy and the slithering snake of a teacher was unsettling. Fear dug into his bones as his mind conjured up the potential future of the young teen.

Lupin gave a slight jerk of his head to shake off the unsavory thoughts. The boy was still young. There was time to correct his course. It was up to him to change Percy’s future, even if it was a small nudge away from the wrong path.

Placing his glasses on the faux marble table, Lupin tried a different tact with the teen this time. Gentle concern coated his words. “Are you alright, Percy?”

No response came. The teen didn’t even seem to notice. 

Lupin sighed inwardly. This wasn’t going to be easy. For starters, he needed to know what had happened to Percy. If he couldn’t even find that out, there was no way he could help him.

“If there’s something bothering you, you can always tell me,” Lupin said. “I’m not here to judge or reprimand. I’m here to help and to listen.”

His words fell onto a brick wall. He leaned back in his chair and prepared for the possibility that this would be a silent session. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s alright too. I’m not going to force you.”

That was bait. Lupin was completely comfortable to sit in silence and let his mind wander. Left in peace and quiet, he used the time to sift through his thoughts or let his fatigued mind take a break. But could a brooding, angry teen cope with the silence, he wondered?

Knowing that he was powerless to do anything until Percy broke his oath of silence, Lupin relaxed his body. The tension in his muscles melted away. It felt good to disassociate from the stress of the job.

At the back of the office, the white grandmother clock announced each minute that ticked by. Lupin watched the pendulum swing to and fro, hypnotized as always by how precise it was. He had bought it ages ago, despite Tonks’s protests about how scary it could be. It was cute seeing such a strong woman getting frightened over something like a clock. But after a lot of coaxing and solid reasoning, he had won the fight.

A nostalgic smile lit up his face. Dreamy eyed, his focus flitted away from Percy for a split second. He didn’t notice the teen lifting his head to stare at him until a low voice broke the silence.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong or why I did it?” Percy asked testily.

Snapped out of his reverie, Lupin refocused his gaze on Percy. The air around the teen stirred with a restless disquiet but it was a far cry from the disturbing energy minutes ago. The silence now broken, he hoped Percy would be more willing to talk. 

“Only if you want to tell me, that is,” he replied with a smile.

Percy scowled, realizing he had been tricked into talking. “Was this your plan all the while? To get me to talk?”

Lupin laughed and waved his accusation away. “Oh no, you give me far too much credit. I only wanted to give you the space you needed.”

Doubt and suspicion clouded Percy’s face but he couldn’t counter Lupin’s well-put words. He slumped back into the armchair, its springs squeaking in protest. Trying to keep his pride intact, he mumbled a defiant “Whatever.”

“So,” Lupin said with a trill in his voice, “do you want to tell me about it?”

~ ~ ~

It was hard to resist the soothing, bedside tone that Lupin adopted. Looking at his kind and friendly smile only disarmed people further. His question to Percy was unjudging and non-accusatory. Simple, and only asking for the facts of what happened.

Percy pursed his lips as he gazed out the window to where tree branches swayed carefree in the wind. He took a moment to compose his thoughts. “I was fucking angry, that’s all. So I snapped.”

“I see.”

“You’re not going to punish me or something?” Percy’s voice increased in defiance, a hint of fear at the edge of his words. He glared at Lupin, as if daring him to do something in retaliation. 

“No, of course not.” Lupin calmed him down. “I’m here to help you. Actually, I’m happy to hear that you stood up against those guys.”

“Really?” Percy’s eyes widened in surprise, the tough guy facade dropped. His expression morphed into confusion. “I thought you would say fighting is bad.”

“Fighting against your teacher because he asked you to go to the whiteboard is not good. But fighting to protect yourself from people who try to hurt you is self-defense,” Lupin reasoned. He avoided labeling the guys as bullies, fearing that would hurt Percy’s pride to admit to being weak.

“Sometimes, fighting with fists is needed, if that’s the only way to make it stop.” Lupin’s lips pressed into a thin line.

He watched as the teen internalized his words and processed it. He knew there was something else at play, something that had angered Percy until he lost control. He had to find out that cause and quell it before the teen imploded.

“What if-” Percy started but cut himself short, hesitant to put his question into words.

Lupin waited. 

“What if the person who hurt you is someone you care for?” Percy blurted out. His cheeks reddened in a mixture of anger and embarrassment as the last word left his lips. The teen averted Lupin’s gaze and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

His mother? A girl? Those were the more likely options, Lupin analyzed. He hummed, taking the time to pick his words with care. “That is indeed a difficult situation.”

Lupin leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk. “It’s best to be honest with that person and tell them that what they did to you is hurtful.”

Scoffing, Percy rolled his eyes. He mumbled, “It’s what they did to someone else.”

Puzzlement scrunched up Lupin’s face. He held up a hand. “Sorry, I’m a bit confused. What did-”

The piercing shrill of an electronic guitar sliced through his words. He winced at the noise. Biting his bottom lip, he held in the rest of his sentence as Percy dug out his phone from his pants pocket.

The teen didn’t bother asking for Lupin’s permission to answer the incoming call. He thumbed the “Answer” button and pressed the phone to his ear.

Lupin tapped his finger on his desk as he used the downtime to iron out his thoughts. He couldn’t think of an indirect way in which Percy’s mother could have hurt him. But a girl? That would be possible.

“...Sorry, Mum.” Snippets of Percy’s conversation piqued Lupin’s interest. He switched his attention to the teen.

“...It wasn’t my fau-” Percy bit down on his bottom lip as he listened to the tirade pouring down the line. He held his silence but Lupin noticed the building rage as Percy’s fingers dug into a fist. 

“Yeah… Okay.” Sharp and curt, Percy spat out his frustration with venom. “Yes, I’m going home now.”

The teen smashed his index finger on the screen to end the call. He shoved the phone into his pocket and got up. With a jerk of his thumb, he snapped, “I gotta go.”

Lupin felt his opportunity to learn anything from Percy slipping through his fingers. He shot out of his seat too and held up a hand to stop the teen. “I’m sorry but about what you were saying just now-”

“Forget it.” Percy interrupted him as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “People are traitorous pieces of shit. That’s all.”

Lupin rounded the corner of his desk and placed a placating hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Please. I only want to know-”

The teen slapped his hand away and fixed Lupin with a glare like molten lava. Despite the older man’s advantage in height, the ferocity of Percy’s expression caused beads of sweat to break out on his forehead.

“I want to help you. Please,” he begged the teen.

Percy’s expression shifted into a scornful smirk. “You really don’t know, do you?

“Know what?” Lost in the question and sudden change in tone, Lupin searched desperately for the link that he was missing.

“Something big is happening in this school.” A dark shroud fell over Percy’s eyes and his smirk dropped. “And it’s only going to get worse from now on.”

The teen brushed past the stunned Lupin, his shoulders knocking the older man off balance. Wide-eyed, Lupin watched as Percy left his office. The slamming of the door knocked him out of his daze and he stumbled towards his desk. One hand gripping the edge of the table, he steadied himself and rested his back against its surface.

Lupin swept a hand through his hair. Confused, his mind was thrown for a spin. Nothing made sense anymore. What happened to Percy was one question, the bigger one to ask was what Percy meant by something big happening in the school.


	32. Hidden Profiles 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione pays a visit to her friends, Lupin and Tonks, and the night seems to be off to a good start!
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi!](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling))

Raucous laughter boomed from the family-run pub across the road as Hermione slid her car into the only available parking spot. She looked out the window at the steady trickle of people sauntering into the pub and restaurants lining the street. It was the complete opposite of the city scene she was used to, with its unsavory crowd of drug dealers and prostitutes loitering around the night spots.

She smiled to herself. She had forgotten how peaceful her hometown was. Peace and quiet was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it meant boredom - which was why she had left it for the city. But she missed the freedom of going out in the night without the fear of being mugged, raped, or killed and left in the streets for dead.

She killed the engine and stepped out of the car. Dressed for comfort in a simple tee and jeans, she hadn’t bothered to take a bag with her. She slipped the car keys into her pocket and closed the door with a click.

The pungent smell of perfume turned her head. A gaggle of teenagers dressed in short skirts and boots passed her by. No doubt making their way to a party, even though it was a weekday evening. She shook her head and chuckled. Listening to their giggling and ribbing stirred up pleasant memories of her younger days when she went out partying with Lynn and Draco. She grimaced and ran a hand through her hair. Boy, that made her feel old.

Clearing her thoughts, she broke into a smile. Gone were the days of partying from night till morning, but at least she could still enjoy a nice evening in the company of friends. Re-energized and in high spirits, she headed for the metal door set in between two shops selling tech gadgets.

Looking for the doorbell, she found the grey box to her right. She pressed the button, a loud buzz filling the cramped entryway. After a few seconds, Tonks’s sharp voice drifted through the speakers. “Yeah?”

Hermione lowered her head to bring her lips closer to the microphone. “Tonks? It’s me, Hermione.” 

“Oh, Hermione! Yeah, come in.”

The door unlocked with a resounding clank. Hermione stepped in, closing the heavy door behind her. A straight flight of steel stairs led up to the second floor, above the shop. Light classical music reached her ears as she climbed up. She hummed along, recognizing the tune as one of Mozart’s famous pieces. 

On the second floor landing, the space opened up to a large living room. A flat, wide-screen television took up much of the space on the wall at the far end. Mounted shelves above the TV were filled with books and CDs. Two small, high-end speakers stood at each end of the TV console table, booming Mozart. 

“Hermione, go ahead and take a seat!” Tonks called out from a distant room. “We’ll be out in just a minute.”

“Okay!” Hermione crossed over to the long, low-back sofa and settled down on one end. She rested her hand on the armrest, subconsciously stroking the firm leather underneath. It smelled new and she soaked in the nice scent. As she crossed her legs, her phone dug uncomfortably into her hip. She fished it out and placed it on the glass table in front of her.

“Do you guys need any help?” she called out as she appraised the apartment. Now that she was seated down, she noticed that the space served as both a living room and office. The space to the right hosted two separate desks, a wall-length bookcase, and a filing cabinet. 

What she loved the most about the space was the windows that looked out onto the street. Covering the wall from end to end, it was a panoramic sight. No buildings blocked the view, so she could see the entire night sky.

“Sorry, we just finished up.” Lupin’s voice caught her attention.

Hermione angled her head to the left. Seeing Lupin dressed in a sporty T-shirt and three-quarter pants, she marveled at how youthful it made him look. He gave off a completely different vibe than the mature counsellor look in school. 

She watched him close the sliding door, which she had mistaken for a wall. She caught a glimpse of the kitchen behind him, with Tonks at the sink. Pointing a finger at the sliding door that blended with the wall, she exclaimed, “That’s nifty. So the kitchen is right there?”

“Yeah, the kitchen and laundry room.” Lupin chuckled. “It was Tonks’s idea to do that.”

He crossed over to the table and placed a platter of tortilla chips down. “We just made some homemade dip for the first time, so it took a while.”

“Wow,” Hermione whistled in appreciation. “Thanks but you guys really didn’t need to do that for me. I can’t wait to taste it now.”

“Don’t set your expectations high though,” Lupin laughed. He bent down and whispered in a hushed tone. “Tonks’s not a good cook.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in mock surprise and she threw her head back in laughter. Winking at Lupin, she lowered her voice too. “I won’t tell her that.”

“Tell me what?” Tonks cut through the whispers as she emerged from the kitchen in a sleeveless tee and track pants.

“Nothing!” Hermione declared in a sing-song voice as she grinned up at her friend.

Tonks shook her head and sighed. “I think I know anyway.” She delivered a playful smack to her husband’s head, an impish grin playing on her lips. “I thought you like my cooking.”

Amused at the interaction between the couple, Hermione giggled. Tonks ignored Lupin’s complaints and placed the bowl of dip on the table. “So what drink can I get you, Hermione?”

Hermione hummed in thought. “Do you have a trippel?”

“Yup.” Tonks nodded. “Coming right up!” 

As she headed for the kitchen, Lupin tapped her on the shoulder. “One trippel for me too, hon.”

Tonks frowned at him before breaking into a smile. She shook accusing fingers at Hermione and Lupin. “I don’t need to remind you guys that we still have school tomorrow. So pace yourselves, okay? Especially you, Lupin.”

Elbowing him in the ribs, she laughed when he exclaimed in pain. After Tonks disappeared back into the kitchen, Lupin took a seat on the two-seater couch to Hermione’s right. One hand rubbing his ribs, he reached for the chips. “Help yourself, by the way.”

“Sure.” Hermione leaned forward, took a chip, and dipped it into the sauce. Holding a hand out underneath her chip in case any of the dip were to fall on the laminate floor, she brought it to her lips and bit down. The salty and spicy taste gave a nice tang to the crispy chip and she nodded her head in approval. “This is good.”

“It actually tastes better than I expected,” Lupin exclaimed in surprise. 

The two of them dug into the chips until Tonks came out with two bottles of trippel, a can of Carlsberg, and two glasses. She placed the drinks on the table and took a seat beside Lupin. As she set about opening the bottles and pouring the beer out, Lupin snuck a look at Hermione over his wife’s shoulder.

“So Hermione, how are you finding the job so far? Everything going okay?” he asked.

Hermione murmured her thanks as Tonks slid her glass over to her. “It’s been fine, I guess. The kids are not that difficult to handle as I thought.”

The lie slipped out easily from her lips. Inwardly, she grimaced. It was far from fine. She had spent the past few days agonizing about what Tom would do or say. Thinking about it now brought on a wave of anxiety and she took a large gulp of beer to placate it.

“Really?” Incredulous, Lupin stared at Hermione. He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Tonks here comes back everyday ranting about some kid who was sent to her office.”

His jab was met with laughter and a slap on his hand. Tonks held up a finger to defend her point. “To be fair, it’s not an everyday occurrence.”

Hermione pressed a hand to her stomach to contain her giggles. “Okay some of them are a handful but I haven’t sent any to Tonks yet.”

“Thanks for that.” The older woman broke into a grin before sighing in exasperation. “I’m tired of putting on the stern look every single time!”

Taking a sip from her can, Tonks let out a contented breath. “Thank god it’s nothing serious though.”

Her voice muffled by the chips that she stuffed into her mouth, Hermione downed more of her beer. “What stuff do they do to be sent to you anyway?”

Shrugging, Tonks laid back and crossed one leg over the other. “Small cases like cheating, vandalism.. Spots of bullying. The bullying isn’t as bad as the things that happen in bigger schools.”

Hermione reached for the bottle of trippel and served herself a generous amount of the deliciously warm liquid. She settled back in her seat as Lupin shifted to face the two women. His eyes twinkling in mischief, he prodded Tonks in the arm. “Do you remember that time when a student was sent to you because he cheated in class using the wrong textbook??” 

Tonks’s face scrunched in humor as she recalled the incident. “Oh yeah that was hilarious.”

“How does someone even do that?” Hermione chortled. 

“You know, I wanted to tell him to at least use his brains when cheating but I couldn’t say that out loud.” Tonks slapped her knee as she chuckled.

The three of them burst into a chorus of merry laughter that lasted a good few seconds. Over the course of a bottle and a half of trippel and the full platter of chips, more tales and humorous incidents were relived. Tipsy and buoyant, Hermione’s worries dissolved in a mix of alcohol and humor. The night was off to a wonderful start.


	33. Hidden Profiles 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's past comes out during the drinking session with Lupin and Tonks.
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

It was well into the night, yet the banter between old friends had not subsided. After much alcohol and snacks, Hermione felt like her body had melted into the couch. Curled up with her legs under her weight, she was completely at home in her friends’ apartment. Swirling the glass of beer in one hand, she propped her head up with the other. 

Her vision blurred before clearing as she looked at Tonks. She let out a chuckle that turned into a hiccup. “Being principal must be tough. Board meetings this week, exams upcoming.”

“Yeah.” Tonks huffed. A light shade of pink tinted her cheeks in comparison to the dark red splotches that covered Hermione’s. Her can of Carlsberg only half-empty, she had binged more on the chips, leaving the plate empty. “At least there hasn’t been much trouble so far.”

Seated between the ladies on a big bean bag, Lupin tossed back his glass. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, he had switched from his place on the couch to the bean bag. It was easier to talk to both ladies this way and the bean bag did wonders for his back.

Recalling the counselling session he had earlier with Percy, he lifted a finger to call attention to his words. “Speaking of that, I had a session today.”

He cleared his throat as a burp threatened to surface. His brows knitted in concentration. “The student mentioned something was brewing in the school.”

“Brewing?” Tonks scoffed. “Like what? A forbidden party they want to throw?”

Hermione laughed and lifted her glass to her lips.

“No, no. This student isn’t..” Lupin reached for words. “Well, like that.”

He stretched his legs out further. Putting his glass down beside him, he rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I got the feeling that it was serious. Like a major fiasco.”

Tonks lifted an eyebrow at her husband. “How major?”

“You know, like the kind where a student is selling drugs..”

Reaching for the last bottle of trippel, Hermione poured the remaining liquid into her glass.

“..or a teacher is having an affair.”

Hermione startled. The hand holding the bottle almost slipped and she dove forward to catch the liquid with her glass. Her quick reaction saved the trippel, leaving only a trickle of alcohol dripping down her glass. She swiped the stray drops with a shaky finger and brought it to her lips. 

Sucking the liquid from her finger, she threw a furtive gaze to Tonks and Lupin. Had they caught on to her blunder? 

“I haven’t heard a thing,” she heard Tonks tell Lupin. “But tell me if you do.”

Their eyes were on each other and not on her. But that only gave her a slight sense of relief. Her heart pounded against her chest like an untamable beast. A million questions ran through her mind. 

Did someone find out about her and Tom? Who? How? Did they tell anyone?

Lost in a swirling whirlpool of thoughts, she nearly missed Lupin’s question.

“How about you, Hermione?”

She hummed, her voice an octave higher than usual. “What?”

“Did you hear any rumors among the students? Or teachers?”

Her eyes widened and she laughed nervously. “N-no. Nothing at all.”

She brought the glass to her lips and took a big gulp. The warm liquid slid down her throat, dulling her senses and quelling her nerves.

A hiccup escaped from her lips as she asked tentatively, “Who was the student who said that?”

Seeing Lupin’s eyes narrowing, her breath caught in her throat. Was he suspicious of her? She berated herself for letting her tongue slip. Excuses flew through her mind as to how she could explain away her question.

“Sorry, I can’t say that. Privacy reasons and all.” His tone was light but held a hint of doubt. She couldn’t tell whether her paranoid mind was making her see and hear things that weren’t there. But the blank, empty stares of Lupin and Tonks bugged the hell out of her.

They know, they know. 

Terrified at the idea that they knew, she blundered over her words. “Oh right, sorry. I thought maybe I could narrow it down to a class I taught. My mistake.”

She raised her glass again and downed more of the beer. Her fingers trembled and she hurriedly folded them in her lap.

“Are you okay?” Tonks reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione jumped at the touch, inadvertently shaking off Tonks’s hand. She forced her lips to crack up at the edges. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Tonks exchanged looks with Lupin before asking, “Has Fenrir made any unwanted advances on you again?”

Hermione’s fingers twitched. Her heart skipped a beat. She placed her glass down, hoping that the slight tremor in her hand wasn’t noticeable. Her lips stretched into a forced grin. “Nah, he backed off after a while. It’s alright now. Really.”

Concern was written on Tonks and Lupin’s faces as they looked at her with pity. Tonks cleared her throat and rubbed her husband’s shoulder. “The thing is.. Lupin here saw Fenrir come onto you last week.” 

Lupin hurriedly followed up with “I’m sorry, Hermione. By the time I saw him there, you already had it under control.”

Relief flooded through her with the switch of topics. They had mistaken her jumpiness and odd actions for what had happened with Fenrir, not Tom. But as she remembered Fenrir’s touch and acid sweet words, a new stab of pain pierced her skin. Hermione flinched at the memory, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling with fear.

“It’s my fault.” Tonks’s soft voice clamped a lid down on Hermione’s memories. She looked up to see guilt clouding Tonks’s expression. 

“I should have checked in on you earlier, especially knowing what kind of a guy Fenrir is.” Tonks continued.

Her old friend’s words warmed her heart. At least one person still cared for her, despite everything. Hermione shook her head and waved it off. “It’s really nothing. I’m sort of.. used to that kind of guy.”

“It’s not good either way.” Tonks countered. “As the principal, I have a responsibility to protect my employees. Fenrir is going to be properly punished for that.”

Straightening in her seat, Tonks paused before announcing, “I’m going to fire him this week.”

“F-fire him??” Hermione stuttered, her eyes widening in shock. “Isn’t that a bit too extreme?”

“No.” Tonks folded her arms over her chest. A stern look on her face showed she meant business. “I won’t stand for sexual harassment in my school. I’ve already let him off too lightly before and this is the last straw.”

“But please don’t tell anyone about this,” she quickly added. “I just wanted you to know first. To set your mind at ease because it won’t happen again.”

Conflicted emotions stirred in Hermione as she took in the news. Her eyes darted from Tonks to Lupin and then back to Tonks. “But I mean.. It’s not really his fault.”

“Not his fault?” Confused, Tonks’s voice rose in volume. “Wha-”

Lupin, who had remained silent throughout, placed his hand on Tonks’s. Taking the cue from him, she pressed her lips closed.

“You’re not the first one he has harassed, Hermione.” Lupin said gently. “He was given a warning and then, he stopped. But now he’s doing it again. We want to stop him from preying on female teachers. Or worse, students.”

“I-I understand.” Hermione murmured. She bit the bottom of her lip. “It just- It feels like I’m the reason he lost his job.”

A silence hung over the room at her words. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she hadn’t said it. The alcohol had loosened her tongue and she regretted having drunk so much. 

“Hermione, do you think what he did to you was wrong?”

Lupin’s carefully phrased question gave her pause for thought. She opened her eyes. Fearful of seeing contempt or disgust in his expression, her gaze wavered before meeting his eyes. The sincerity and openness reflected in his features melted all her barriers.

“It is wrong,” she said haltingly. “But- how do I put this? It’s not entirely his fault either.” 

Tonks leaned forward and stabbed the armrest with a finger. “You never consented to his advances, Hermione. So that puts him solely in the wrong.”

“I know.” Bobbing her head up and down, Hermione winced. “I tell myself that a thousand times over.”

She pressed a hand to her heart, her fingers clenching into a fist. “But something deep inside tells me I’m to blame too.”

An awkward laugh tumbled from her lips at the idiocy of it all. Saying it aloud in front of her friends only made it worse. She must seem like a useless child, a naive fool. Unable to look them in the eye, she dipped her head down, her hair tumbling over to cover the forming tears.

“It’s not normal, I know.” Her breath hitched. She managed a bitter chuckle, her voice cracking. “I guess I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” A hand closed over her trembling fingers and she looked up through the curtain of her hair to see Lupin kneeling in front of her. His lips broke into a wistful smile. “Not everyone is lucky enough to be told that it’s not their fault.”

“I’m sorry.” Angling her head, she saw the hurt creasing Tonks’s forehead. The older woman reached out to rub Hermione’s arm in a comforting gesture that brought forth memories of a forgotten past. Memories of her mother when she was still acting like one.

“I don’t know who or what conditioned you to think this way. But it’s not true.” Tonks emphasized her last words with a finality that drove it home into Hermione’s mind.

Flashes of her childhood played like a broken movie reel. Memories of a father’s receding back as he left his crying child. Of a mother’s condescending tone as she blamed her daughter’s ugliness for driving away her father. Of a desperate tween starving herself and splashing makeup on her face. Of the happiness when boys paid attention to her. Of the fear when boys paid too much attention to her. Of the horror when men directed their touch from a mother to her.

Tears blurred her vision. Her chest heaved with sobs as the chains that held her down crumbled into dust. She buried her head in Tonks’s bosom as she let out the anguish of all those years. The only thing she remembered that night was Tonks’s sweet scent and her hand stroking her back, whispering the same two words over and over into her ears.

“It’s okay.”


	34. Hidden Profiles 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds out some unsavory information from Rita but is distracted by a vandalism case. Who do you think threw the stones?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

Cruising down the empty road, Harry tapped his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the rock music blaring from the radio. He glanced at the green digits displayed on the car dashboard. Ten more minutes to the end of his shift.

A grin lit up his face. He straightened in his seat and stepped on the accelerator. Boy did he love it when a long, boring shift was over. Whistling along with the music, he ran through potential ideas as to how he would spend the remaining night. 

Stay at home? Nah, too dull. Drinks with Ron? His friend had told him his hands were tied at work this week, so probably not. Luna? She was busy at the restaurant today. 

As more names zoomed through his mind, the overhead signboard with directions loomed in the distance. One of the words on the board snagged his attention. His heart skipped a beat at the name of Hermione’s neighborhood. 

He hadn’t seen her since the day he installed the surveillance cameras at her home. Would it be odd if he dropped by her home without notice and ask her out? Was that creepy? He chewed on his bottom lip as conflicting thoughts warred inside him.

Ahead, the road branched off to the left. His eyes darted back and forth between the straight road and the fork. To go straight meant keeping the status quo, to go left would be taking a risk. The pounding of his heart grew to drown out the roar of the engine. As the car drifted away from the fork, he felt his opportunity slipping away from his fingers.

A rush of adrenaline forced his hand and he jerked the steering wheel to the left. The car’s wheels screeched in protest but yielded to his selfish whim. He impulsively let out a whoop, punching the air with a fist. He was really doing this!

Excitement coursed through his body as he drove. He imagined how Hermione would look when he turned up on the doorstep, unannounced. Surprised, yes. And then, thrilled. Shifting in his seat, he cleared his throat and prepared himself for what he should say later. It would be casual, he would say that he happened to be passing by - which was true - and that he wanted to take her out since it was a lovely night.

He looked out the side window to make sure he hadn’t missed her place. Lights twinkled in each house and a mix of smells drifted through his open window. With a grimace, he hoped Hermione hadn’t eaten yet.

Down the road, he could make out Hermione’s house under the dim lighting from the lamppost. There were no lights on inside but then again, she could be somewhere at the back of the house. Keeping his hopes high, he parked his squad car in front of her place and got out. 

The sound of running water pulled his gaze towards the house next door. Rita stood half-facing him as she watered her plants. Her wiry hair was tied back loosely in a bun, revealing her hollowed cheekbones and wrinkled skin. Despite the warm weather, she wore a long-sleeved blouse and ankle-length skirt that covered most of her skin. 

Harry tipped his head towards her. “Evening, Rita.”

The old woman stopped watering and looked up with a frown. Seeing the young policeman, her eyebrows deepened into a glare. “Here to complain about my non-existent noise again?”

A pinch of irritation twisted his features but he shook it away with a good-natured laugh. “No, no, of course not. I just wanted to pop by Hermione’s place.”

“Hermione?” Her lips curled in a mocking sneer. “You mean that loose woman next door?”

Indignation and anger set his chest on fire. This old bat was taking it too far. He took a deep breath to prevent himself from yelling. Gritting his teeth, he gnashed his words. “What do you mean, loose?”

His fury only fuelled Rita’s vicious spirit and she unleashed her sharp tongue with pleasure. “I mean someone who throws herself at men, of course.”

Rita placed a hand on her hip, still holding the watering can with the other. “I’ve seen how she acts around men - all flirty and sweet. She goes out in the middle of the night like she’s running away to her boyfriend.”

Her scathing words dripped acid into Harry’s ears. He could barely hold himself back from hurling a punch at the damn hag. His cheeks burned a furious red as he huffed to let out the steam inside his chest. He leveled a glare at Rita, the volume of his voice increasing. “That counts as slander, Rita. I would be very careful about what you say next if you don’t want to be charged for that.”

Rita scoffed, but upon seeing the unwavering look in his eyes, the smirk on her lips dropped. Clearing her throat, she puffed her skinny chest out and tried to regain her ground. “I’m only stating the facts. How can it be slander if I really did see her leaving suspiciously late at night? Crying and all too.”

“She was crying?” Anger gave way to surprise. Harry’s eyes widened as questions tumbled out of his mouth. “Why? Do you know what happened?”

A little sneer made its way back across Rita’s lips. She placed the watering can down on the bench and folded her arms across her chest. Her tone was laced with sarcasm. “How would I know? Apparently I’m the kind of person who simply says things without basis. What you would call slander, I guess.”

Harry swore he heard a vein pop in his head. His teeth bared in a snarl. “You know very well that’s not what I called slander-”

“Oh really? Because then this would count as police intimidation.” Rita narrowed her eyes at him. “And I could get you in trouble for that.”

He opened his mouth to protest but hesitated before closing it again. Police bodycams hadn’t been rolled out to them yet, so it would be her words against his. He was sure people detested Rita too but he didn’t want to turn this into a big incident. Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that finding out about Hermione was more important. There was no need to lose his cool over someone like Rita.

“Fine,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

A victorious smile lit up Rita’s features.

“When did you see her run out crying?”

Rita hummed and pretended to give it some thought, basking in every second that he groveled for information. “A few days, I guess.”

“Thank you.” He threw the words out without meaning it, and stalked off towards Hermione’s front gate.

“Oh did I forget to mention? She’s not in, you know.”

Halting in his steps, Harry swung on his heel to face Rita. “What?”

She jerked a thumb towards Hermione’s silent house. “She left about an hour ago.” Seeing Harry’s downcast expression, she added smugly, “Maybe to see that boyfriend.”

Harry’s left eye twitched. He tried to cover up his subconscious reaction but Rita’s chuckles told him he had failed. Simmering in anger, he flashed her a dirty look before spinning around and heading to his car. He yanked the door open, got in, and slammed it shut. As he started the car, he purposely let the engine roar for a prolonged few seconds. 

He sneaked a side glance out his mirror. Rita’s eyes narrowed at him as the noise grated on her nerves. Unable to bear it any longer, she shook a fist at him before stomping back to her house. 

A burst of satisfaction tugged his lips into a taut smile. He stepped on the accelerator and the car leapt forward, trailing smoke as it did. Coasting down the road, his smile disappeared, morphing into a sullen frown. He didn’t know what to think or feel. His mind was lost in a tangle of questions, his body torn between wanting to break down and wanting to break things.

Trapped in a state of confusion, he hardly noticed his surroundings until a furious scream shattered the air. Startling, he whipped his head to the right, where the sound had come from. Tall bushes obscured his view of the houses but then, it began to rustle violently with movement.

A figure in white barreled out of the shrubbery and into the path of his oncoming car. Harry’s eyes widened and he slammed down on the brakes. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel with enough force to break it. The figure - a girl, he noticed - didn’t even stop, hitting the road hard and sprinting away with a selfie stick in hand.

Harry got out of his car just as a panting middle-aged man stumbled out of the bushes the same path the figure had. Seeing Harry in uniform, the man wagged a finger at him and drew an arc through the air towards the running figure. “Catch that girl, will you? She just threw a rock at my window, goddamn it!”

Harry’s gaze flitted to the girl as she vanished down a side road. He turned back to the man and said calmly, “Will do, sir. Please go back to your residence. I will take care of it.”

The man nodded his thanks and watched as Harry jumped back into his car and sped off. Although the girl wasn’t in sight, Harry had a rough idea where he could catch her. He hung a right and after a few turns, he parked at the junction between the neighborhood and the main road leading back to town. Having been young once, he knew this was the path he himself would take. All he had to do was wait.


	35. Hidden Profiles 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds out that Kyler is the one behind the vandalism. Valerie saves Kyler from an interrogation and the two sisters have a talk. What do you think of Valerie and Kyler's dynamics?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

Leaning on the car bonnet, Harry let out a long breath. This was not how he had planned for this evening to turn out. Even a boring normal would be better than this series of disasters. Hermione occupied the better part of his thoughts but he couldn’t muster the energy to sort through the information he learnt about her, or his feelings for that matter.

He dragged a hand down his cheeks. For now, he would settle this vandalism issue and then go back to a warm bath and sleep. He angled his wrist to look at the old-fashioned, analog watch that sat snugly on his arm. The female culprit should be coming round the bend anytime. 

He pushed himself off the car and straightened up. The car was parked behind a few medium-height trees and couldn’t be seen from where the girl was likely to appear. He glanced towards the main road where a few cars zoomed past. Boy did he want to join them on the way home. 

A silhouette in the corner of his eyes snagged his attention. Turning his head back towards the cozy neighborhood, he saw a girl half-walking, half-running down the road. There she was, he huffed in exasperation.

Arms folded across his chest, he watched her as she unknowingly made her way towards him. He noticed that her gait was awkward. Maybe she wasn’t comfortable in the sleeveless white top and denim skirt that sat above her knee. Or maybe those sneakers she wore weren’t quite as fitting as they should be.

When she neared, he picked out the more minute details of her face. Her bangs partially covered her eyes but her delicate features were plain to see. He searched his brain for a name to put to the face but came up with none.

Her gaze was fixed on the ground, which made his job easier. He had hoped he wouldn’t need to give chase if she eluded him. As the sound of her footsteps and labored breathing grew louder, he stepped out from under the cover of the trees and into her path. The girl almost careened into him but stopped at the last moment.

Her head jerked up in shock and he found himself staring straight into the scared wide eyes of Kyler. He was as surprised as she was, not expecting to see the demure teen. No, he had been certain that it was some rebellious young girl - her sister, Valerie, perhaps. 

Shaking away his doubts, he assumed a stern look. “Kyler, what were you doing throwing rocks at people’s windows?”

“I-I-” Stuttering, her eyes darted from left to right and then down to the ground. Her grip tightened around the selfie stick in her hand. “I didn’t want to do it.”

“But you did it anyway,” Harry emphasized.

There was a pregnant silence.

Sighing, Harry gave up. He wasn’t in the mood to care why she did it. All he wanted was to close this case. He gestured to his car. “Come on. You’re going to apologize to the owner for what you did. And then, I’ll send you back home and inform your parents.”

Kyler’s head snapped up. Her lips trembled as tears pooled in her eyes. “Please don’t tell them,” she begged in a small voice that seemed to vanish as soon as it left her tongue. “I’ll apologize but please, please don’t tell my parents.”

The terror and desperation in her expression broke Harry’s heart. He could only imagine what her parents would do to her when they found out about this incident. Faded memories of the crack of a belt resurfaced in his mind. The coppery smell of blood assailed his senses as the sharp pain of another searing red line was carved into his flesh. A shudder rippled through his back and he bit down on his lip to shake off the feeling. 

Kyler’s parents wasn’t the sort to mete out corporal punishment to their daughters, he reminded himself. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t deal some other equally terrible blow to her. Stuck between a sense of duty and his personal feelings, he pinched the bridge of his nose and grumbled under his breath, “For God’s sakes, spare me this.” 

Jerking a thumb towards his car, he said gruffly, “Just get in first. We’ll sort things out later.”

He headed for the passenger-side and opened the door for her when a sudden screech of wheels on tarmac slashed through the air. The smell of burning rubber accompanied the godawful sound as a battered, black sedan pulled up in front of them. 

Dumbfounded, he watched as Valerie got out of the sedan and rushed towards Kyler. “There you are!” she exclaimed, exasperation coloring her voice. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere and you didn’t answer your phone!”

Kyler’s eyes widened. “Wha-”

Grabbing Kyler’s wrist, Valerie tugged her back towards the waiting car. “We gotta go. Now.”

Harry snapped out of his daze. “Wait Valerie. I need Kyler to-”

Valerie rounded on him. “You need her to what?” Her sharp eyes bore into his as she lashed out, “Our mum’s in the hospital right this moment and you’re telling me that’s less important than whatever it is you want Kyler for??”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“Whatever it is can wait. I’m taking my sister with me.” Valerie’s tone was final. She pulled Kyler into the car with her and drove off, leaving Harry staring after them in the dust kicked up by the squealing tyres.

Inside the old sedan, Kyler spun in her seat to see whether Harry was following them. After a few seconds, she was satisfied that the policeman had not bothered to give chase. Turning to her sister, she asked, “Is mum okay? What happened?”

A calm expression settled over Valerie’s face. “I lied about that. Mum’s fine.”

“Huh?” Confused, Kyler sank into her seat. “What do you mean by that?”

“I was passing by and I saw a policeman with you. I figured you were in deep shit, so I came up with something.” Valerie eyed her younger sister. “What did you do anyway? And why are you wearing my clothes?”

Caught red-handed, Kyler dropped her gaze to her lap. Her hand still clutched the selfie stick, the glaring evidence of her misdeeds. “Sorry, Val,” she murmured. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Kyler flinched at the sharpness in her older sister’s voice. “I threw a rock at someone’s window.”

“Why?” Valerie scoffed. “You’re usually the goody-goody girl that mum and dad loves.”

“I-” Her fingers dug into the coarse denim of the skirt. “My online friends are having a dare competition. And I-I guess I wanted to impress them.”

“Online friends huh.” Shifting gears, Valerie dropped the speed after checking that Harry wasn’t on their tail. “Some kind of friends they are.”

Her words touched a nerve. “At least they’re better than you,” Kyler retorted, her voice rising above a murmur. “They care about me.”

Laughter rose from Valerie’s throat. “Care about you? So that’s why they have you doing this stupid dare competition?”

Kyler bit on the inside of her cheek. An inner voice screamed at her sister that those people online had always been there when she needed it. But her lips pressed shut, unable to give a voice to her most precious thoughts.

“Let me tell you something from personal experience, Ky.” Valerie’s tone took on a more serious note. “Don’t blindly follow people, especially people you meet on the Internet. Use that big brain of yours to think first.”

A click of her tongue followed. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

Her condescending attitude sliced through Kyler’s thin patience. She threw a sidelong glance at Valerie, her eyes narrowing into a glare. “You’re one to talk. Mum and Dad always say that you mix around with bad company.”

Valerie’s lips pursed. The car jerked forward as she applied more gas. Her voice strained with anger. “They’re hardly even around. What do they know?”

“I do.”

“Right, yeah. You’re the little snitch that told them that.” The retort was thrown lightly but it exploded in Kyler’s face like a grenade.

Guilt engulfed the younger girl. She retreated back into her shell, wishing that she had never even brought it up. Why had she been so stupid, so careless when she was a kid? Why did she let such a silly reDraco spill from her innocent lips in front of her parents?

“Look, Ky.” Valerie’s blunt tone cut into her blanket of self-blame. “You gotta learn to look beyond what people show on the surface. You’re too naive, that’s the problem.”

With one eye on the road, she gestured with a wave of her hand. “People like your internet buddies? They sound kind and everything. But they’re just insecure and wanting to prove that they’re special. And they’ll do all sorts of bad things.”

Kyler frowned. Genuinely curious, she questioned her sister. “How would you know? Like you said, they’re online. How can you prove it?”

“Alright.” Valerie shifted in her seat and thumped the steering wheel with her palm. “You want a real-life example? Take Hermione, that new art teacher. What do you think of her?”

Recalling the woman with a sweet smile and approachable aura, Kyler said, “She’s nice? She’s always friendly and kind.”

A bitter chuckle left Valerie’s lips. “No, she’s not. That’s a mask that she puts on in front of people.”

“But-”

“I can’t prove it now but I can bet with you that one day, that mask will drop. Then her real ugly self will show.” Valerie stabbed the dashboard with a painted finger. Her eyes narrowed as venom dripped from her words. “Mark my words.”

Kyler shuddered. She didn’t believe her sister but lacked the courage to say it out loud. Instead, her inner voice whispered back, “Consider them marked.”


	36. Privilege Escalation 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenrir is fired and stirs up trouble in the staff room. But he insinuates that he knows a secret of Hermione. What could it be?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

**June 5 202X**

_  
**15:11**  
@modthebod: What do you do if someone you know betrays you?_

_@herm4ever: Omg who in the world betrayed you?? How dare they?! Umm I dunno.. Maybe you should like talk to them about your real feelings and stuff?_

_**15:15**  
@kai: ? Need to know the context first. _

_**15:16**  
@by123 has joined the server._

_**15:18**  
@herm4ever: Ahh welcome by123!! Do we call you By or something? _

_@by123: You can call me By, sweetie. I’m new, so I’m catching up on the messages._

_@herm4ever: Sure, take your time!!_

_@modthebod: Read the rules, By. Tell me how you found out about Hermione. Why you’re her fan._

_**15:20**  
@by123: And why do I need to tell you that?_

_@modthebod: Because I will ban your motherfucking ass if you don’t._

_@kai: ...Someone’s in a pissy mood._

_@modthebod: Shut up, @kai._

_**15:22**  
@herm4ever: Noo don’t do that, @kai! *hugs* Someone did something mean to poor @modthebod, so he’s just hurting._

_@kai: Whatever._

_@by123: I’m most likely way older than you guys, so let me just give you some advice, @modthebod. If someone betrayed you, you hurt them back. Go by that old saying, an eye for an eye. Make them wish they never did that, you hear me?_

_**15:25**  
@kai: ...Wow. That sounds so wrong._

_@herm4ever: Hnrgh I’m not sure that’s a good idea. But do whatever makes you feel better, @modthebod! *sends hugs over the Internet*_

_@modthebod: Thanks @by123 and @herm4ever. Given you member rights now, @by123._

_@by123: Atta boy, @modthebod. Thanks, man._

With a stack of folders in hand, Lupin marched to the staff room. Creased eyebrows hinted to his irritation at having to fill in evaluation forms at a teacher’s last minute requests. It was the last day before the big festival in town, so there was no way he would let work hang over his head during the celebration. After all, it was supposed to be a romantic day spent with his wife.

As he passed by full classrooms, overlapping voices drifted through the corridor. Excitement and a general sense of anticipation permeated the air as both teachers and students alike looked forward to the end of the day. 

He let out a frustrated breath. Thank God he had finished his task. Please let nothing else end up on his desk today. One more quick session to go, and then it would be a nice long weekend ahead of him.

Reaching the glass doors of the staff room, he pushed it open. A blast of cool air greeted him, along with low murmurs and the clacking of keyboard keys. He acknowledged his colleagues with a smile as he navigated around the desks and filing cabinets. 

His arrival caught the sight of the female teacher guilty of passing him the late request. She waved to him and flashed an apologetic smile. Unable to remain irritated at her, he returned her greeting with a pointed gesture at the folders in his hand and a grin.

As he made his way across to her desk, raised voices drew his attention to the far left of the office. A subdued quiet fell over the room as people turned their focus to the ruckus breaking out at the back. Lupin shifted course and rounded the corner. As soon as he laid eyes on the unfolding scene, he grimaced and swore to himself. What bad timing. 

“This is fucking bullshit.” An enraged Fenrir spat as he flung items into a cardboard box. “Bullshit, man!”

Not a soul dared to stand within ten feet of the man. His colleagues kept their distance, watching on in silence as he packed his belongings into the forlorn-looking box. His tirade continued until he lifted the box and looked up. Upon seeing Lupin, his expression darkened even further.

Gulping, Lupin prepared for a confrontation as the man stormed towards him with the box under his arm. A path cleared as everyone scrambled out of the way. Lupin stood his ground and squared his shoulders. There was no getting out of this.

“You bastard!” Fenrir yelled in his face. “You and that bitch of a wife have the guts to fire me? Me??”

Spittle sprayed from his lips, some landing on Lupin’s cheeks. Without batting an eyelid, Lupin looked straight at him and said calmly, “Your sexual harassment antics needed to be stopped. Honestly, it should have been sooner.”

Fenrir’s eyes bulged, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red. He scoffed loudly, placing his free hand on his hip. “I don’t understand what you mean. I’ve never harassed any woman before.”

“I think a lot of people would beg to differ.”

A callous laugh burst from Fenrir’s lips. He swept his arm at the captive audience and taunted them. “So which of you scumbags are the ones who claimed that I harassed them and got me fucking fired?!”

His barb was met with a mixture of stony glares and muttered curses. A few of the onlookers scurried away - some even leaving the staff room, judging by the whoosh of air as the glass door opened and closed.

“Huh?!” Fenrir barked. “No one dares to admit it huh?!”

Before some of the men and women made a move to shut him up, Lupin spoke up first. “It doesn’t matter who did, Fenrir. We all know what happened and we have more than enough evidence. So I suggest you leave quietly.”

Fenrir clicked his tongue in disgust. He bobbed his head as if he had finally grasped the situation. His lips drew into a snarl. “It must be that bitch then. That Hermione!”

A stab of ice-cold dread shot through Lupin’s body. This was exactly the scenario that he had feared. Desperate to draw the attention away from Hermione - who he noticed wasn’t around, Lupin cut in. “No, it wasn’t her, Fenrir. Whatever happened-”

The box dropped to the ground with a jarring thump, some of its contents spilling out in all directions. In a split second, Fenrir closed the distance and grabbed Lupin by the collar. Yanked forward until he was barely an inch away from Fenrir’s face, Lupin gasped. The folders slipped from his fingers, scattering papers onto the floor. His heart raced like a horse as all his flight or fight instincts kicked in at once. 

“It was her, wasn’t it??” Fenrir growled as his gaze bore into Lupin’s wide, fearful eyes. The stench of smoke in Fenrir’s breath hit him, drawing a hacking cough from his throat.

Fenrir’s fingers squeezed tighter even as a chorus of screams broke out. The coarse material of Lupin’s shirt dug into his neck until a bubble of panic lodged in his throat. He felt hands grabbing at him as his colleagues tried to pull the two men apart. He choked out a “No” before Fenrir’s grip on him was released. 

Falling backwards, Lupin brought a trembling hand to his neck and massaged the red spots that appeared on his skin. He barely heard his colleagues’ concerned questions as they surrounded him and patted his back. 

His gaze drifted back to Fenrir who was being held back by three men, still struggling and yelling curses. The short spurt of relief he felt after being released from Fenrir’s clutches was drowned out by a wave of helplessness. The situation had spiraled out of control. 

Sharp voices sliced through the cacophony and Lupin turned to see two security guards flanked by his female colleague arrive on the scene. The furious Fenrir was handed over to the professional guards who firmly grabbed him by both arms and escorted him away. A colleague followed behind with Fenrir’s box of belongings.

“You tell that bitch, Hermione!” Fenrir yelled as he was dragged through the office. “I know what she did!”

Lupin cringed. It should not have come to this. It was his fault. He sunk to the floor, the burden of guilt too heavy to bear.

“I know her secret, you hear me!” 

Secret? His ears perked up.

“Tell her to wait and see!” Fenrir’s last words echoed in the room, followed by a deafening silence as the door closed behind him.

Brows furrowed in thought, Lupin picked himself up from the floor. He smiled away and muttered assurances to his colleagues who asked after him. Slowly, the crowd dispersed and went back to their work, the air full of gossip about Fenrir and Hermione. As his female colleague helped him pick up the strewn papers while uttering her profuse apologies at being too late, only two questions ran through his mind.

Where was Hermione? And what secret of hers did Fenrir know of?


	37. Privilege Escalation 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione receives a sum of money and goes to celebrate with her friends. But she finds Draco alone at home, with Lynn away.
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

Hermione stared at the additional zeroes listed in the balance of her bank book. Over and over, she counted the numbers until it was imprinted in her mind. The corner of her lips tugged up into a wide grin and she clamped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from whooping in the middle of the street.

She clutched the bank book to her chest, feeling the euphoric beating of her heart through the thin pieces of paper. Oh she could smell the sweet, sweet scent of money! Sure, she wasn’t holding actual paper notes but those few black digits that appeared at the end of her balance was close enough.

“I’m sorry, are you still using the ATM?” A gravelly voice cut through her thoughts.

Hermione spun to see a middle-aged lady wearing a polite smile as she stood in line. Apologizing profusely, Hermione backed away to let the older woman take her turn. Book in hand, she sashayed down the sidewalk to the beat in her mind. Her loose blouse and tight pencil skirt turned a few heads but she was oblivious to the attention she was attracting.

With a smile still plastered on her face, she slipped the bank book into her handbag and took out her phone. A few taps took her to her email where a message from a hidden sender address sat in the inbox. It was the same message that had sent her scuttling from her desk to Tonks’s office to ask for an early release from work, citing personal emergency as a reason.

To be fair, she could have checked her bank account from the desktop at work but there were too many pairs of eyes around her. Thankfully, Tonks had granted her time off. She reminded herself to treat her friend to a meal, now that she had gotten a windfall.

Honestly, she hadn’t expected to get that much money from - well, him. But then again, he was a politician with a reputation to save. He owed it to her too, she reasoned as she hit the Reply button. She typed out a quick response that confirmed she had received the money and sent it with a press of a finger.

Lowering her phone, she stepped off the sidewalk and waited for the cars to stop before crossing the street to where her car was parked. She fished out her car keys from the bag and unlocked the vehicle. As she got into the driver’s seat and plunked her bag beside her, she let out a long, pent-up sigh.

With one worry behind her now, she wanted to indulge in her new fortune and celebrate with someone. Staring out the windscreen as she started the engine, she wondered who she could call out for drinks. Tonks was probably still in school. How about Lynn?

She had no idea what her friend’s plans were for the day but if she had to wager a guess, Lynn would still be at home now. Breaking into a grin, she considered whether she should surprise her friend and turn up unannounced. She hummed in thought for a few seconds before deciding against that idea.

Dipping into her bag, she retrieved her phone and fired off a quick text to Lynn. Without waiting for a reply, she slid the phone into the holder and put the car into gear. The engine purred as she backed out of her parking space and slid into the main road. Considering she was so used to gridlock in the city, there weren’t many cars in town. She made quick progress weaving through the streets until she was out of the town center.

As the car drifted down the straight road, Hermione fiddled with the volume dial on her dashboard. Smooth jazz pumped out of the speakers. Bobbing her head with the rhythm of the double bass, she channeled her excitement to her fingers that tapped on the steering wheel. 

Her buoyant mood carried her to cloud nine. The past weeks had been filled with anxiety, fear, and paranoia. But with one single transaction, she felt like her luck had finally changed for the better. A good feeling nestled in her gut that things would finally go her way, that her life would straighten itself out.

With that in mind, time flew past and before she knew it, the yellow digits on her dashboard clock flashed 4.04pm when she arrived at Lynn’s home. She parked a distance away from the front gate of the yellow house and killed the engine. A last check of her phone showed no messages from Lynn.

She shrugged. No matter, she would just have to settle for surprising Lynn. She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and got out of the car. A chorus of bird songs greeted her as she sucked in the clean air of the countryside. Her heels clicked against the pavement, echoing in the quiet of the neighborhood. Most people were in town or at the fairground a distance away, preparing for the festival this weekend.

When she reached Lynn’s home, she tested the gate, finding it unlocked. A small push made it creak open and she let herself in. She strolled up to the front door and pressed on the doorbell. The soft melody that rang out inside the house was drowned by the shriek of an electric guitar.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. Was that Tom’s doing? She didn’t think Lynn would allow for such loud rock music in her house. Just as she was about to ring the bell again, the door opened to reveal Draco dressed in a black singlet and shorts.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, a little surprised at seeing Draco instead of Lynn. And especially in such clothes that showed off much of his well-toned body. A tinge of pink dusted her cheeks and she averted her eyes from the muscles on his shoulders. “Sorry, Draco. I was looking for Lynn.”

A deep-seated grumble escaped from Draco’s chest as he leaned against the doorframe. “She’s not in.”

Disappointment set in the dip of her lips. She waved a hand in dismissal and mumbled, “Oh is that so? Sorry for disturbing you.”

As she turned to leave, Draco drawled, “Do you want to come in?”

Surprised by the invitation, she stammered, “I-I don’t want to intrude.”

“Come on. It looks like you want a drink.” A sly grin scampered across his face as he crossed his arms.

Hermione bit her lips, her eyes flitting to the ground in thought. There was nothing wrong in accepting his invitation, right? After all, Draco was her long-time friend too. She wanted someone to celebrate with, so might as well be Draco. Her darkest, selfish thoughts were pushed down and reasoned away.

“Sure,” she chirped.

Draco opened the door wide and she entered the house, brushing past his shoulder as she did. The slight contact sent a pleasurable jolt down her spine. She smiled up at him, noticing the redness of his eyes. 

“Have you been drinking already?” She clicked her tongue in mock disapproval, a wink of her eyes showing that she was joking.

“Yeah, I’m on my third can. I think I’m turning into the alcoholic that my Mum was,” Draco snorted. The smell of alcohol in his breath made it clear he was telling the truth.

Now that she was inside, the sound of rock music blaring from the living room was even more overwhelming. The floor and walls vibrated with each smash of the drum. Draco apologized for the noise and fished out his phone to turn the music off through its Bluetooth connection.

The house lapsed into silence. Her ears relieved of the jarring sound, she realized there was no other noise to indicate that anyone else was in. As they walked down the hallway, Hermione looked up at the second floor. “Tom isn’t in either?”

“Nah.”

She let out a breath of relief. After the troubling incident with Tom, she had avoided coming into contact with him. During class, he would shrink in his seat and she would pretend he wasn’t there. So far, it seemed he hadn’t told anyone about their little tryst - if it could be called that. But not telling doesn’t mean he would never blab and an undercurrent of tension and paranoia ran through her everyday.

“Tom went to some useless competition in the neighboring town,” Draco added with a scoff. “And then Lynn had to rush out and drive him back from there because he couldn’t figure out how to take a bus.”

Hermione laughed, thinking that it was a joke. One look at Draco’s vexed expression told her otherwise and she stopped, sucking in her bottom lip. 

“Yeah, he’s that useless of a kid.” Grumbling, Draco led her to the dining room where opened packets of groundnuts and empty beer cans littered the table and parts of the floor.

Hermione scanned the mess with a grimace. Lynn was not going to like this when she came back. She placed her bag on the cleanest chair she could find. “Wow you’re certainly umm.. Having fun. Like a bachelor boy.”

“Make yourself at home,” he called out with a laugh as he headed to the kitchen.

She picked a can off a chair and dropped into it. “So when will Lynn be back?”

“Late in the night,” came the reply as Draco grabbed a few more cans of beer from the fridge. “Carlsberg okay with you, Hermione?”

“That’s fine, yeah.”

She dug into her bag and took out her phone. A quick glance at the screen turned up no notifications or messages from Lynn. “What competition lasts so long into the night?”

“It’s some crazy spelling bee shit.” Emerging from the kitchen, Draco placed five cans of beer on the table, along with a couple of packets of snacks. “And no, it’s ending soon. Lynn’s driving Tom home and then she’ll go straight to her job.”

He slumped into the chair beside her. “She’s pulling another overtime shift.”

A simple “Wow” was the only response Hermione could think of. She didn’t need to see Draco’s face to know what he felt about his wife’s actions. She heard it in the bitterness of his voice, and saw it in the mess surrounding her. 

She reached for one of the cans and slid it closer. A sharp click and pop sliced through the air as she opened it. Besider her, Draco already had a can open and was working on tearing through the plastic of the potato chips packet.

“So what did you intend to talk about with Lynn?” he asked.

Relieved at the change in topic, she chuckled. “I got some good news today, so I wanted to take her out for a drink. Looks like I got part of that wish down.” 

“Nice. So what was this piece of good news?”

“I was sent a big sum of money..” She trailed off, her left eye twitching as she lied smoothly. “For my work.”

Draco’s eyes sparkled at the mention of money and he laughed. “That’s great! Are you going to be a millionaire now?”

“No, no,” she said hurriedly with a wave of her hands. “It’s not that much but it’s good to tide me over for a few months.”

“Oh.” A tinge of dejection marred Draco’s voice, but he recovered with a wide grin. “That’s still something worth celebrating though. Let’s toast!”

Hermione’s lips pulled up into a joyous smile as she lifted her can. “What should we toast to?”

Draco humed in thought. “To better days?”

“So cliche, Draco,” she teased with a wink. “To better days then!”

As their cans tapped against each other, she wished for her troubles to fly away and that all things good would fall into her lap - including Draco.


	38. Privilege Escalation 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco get drunk together. Dangerous questions come up!
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

By her third can of beer and second pack of chips, it was clear that Hermione was more than a little tipsy. Her cheeks flushed red and her eyes drooped every minute. But the smile that spread across her lips never wavered.

Sprawled out on the three-seater sofa with her legs tucked behind her, she leant her body on the soft leather back. Her elbow rested on the top of the sofa, head cradled in her palm. In her other hand, she lazily swirled the can of beer. It was much more comfortable sitting here in the living room, which was why Draco had suggested they move from the dining room after he almost fell off his chair.

Seated beside her with his legs propped up on the console table, Draco was equally stoned, having started his drinking session much earlier. His expression had loosened up and his booming laugh resonated with the youth that he once possessed. Transfixed by his carefree attitude, Hermione was transported back to the old days when they were young and free of burdens. 

Dreamy eyes stared at him as soothing pop music played in the background. “Draco, doesn’t this remind you of the time we snuck into your mum’s cabinet and stole her wine?”

He chuckled, his eyes closing in reminiscence. “Yeah, it does.”

“We were full of trouble back then.” She laughed, a hiccup punctuating her last words. “Thank God you were there to rein us in when our ideas got too wild.”

Arms folded behind his head, he leant back on the sofa. “Yeah like the time you and Lynn thought it would be a good idea to sneak into the principal’s office.”

A few blinks brought back her memory of that occasion. She shook her head at the craziness of their youth. “That would not have ended up well.”

Taking another gulp from her can, her face scrunched at the exquisite feeling of the liquor burning down her throat. With a sigh, she pointed her index finger at Draco. “But you know, looking back, we weren’t really that bad kids. We didn’t do drugs. We didn’t vandalize stuff.”

He opened his eyes and his head rolled to the side to look at her. Dim yellow lighting cast a shadow on his prominent jawline, accentuating his handsome features. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat as a cheeky smile graced his face. “We definitely weren’t the kind to study all day and go home by 8pm though.”

Giggles spilled from her lips and she cupped a hand to her mouth, the smell of alcohol teasing her nostrils. “Yeah, we weren’t like Tonks. She was the goody type. And she ended up well, didn’t she?”

“You did too, Hermione. You’re a singer in a big city and you just got all that cash!” He spread his arms wide behind him.

She grimaced at how far he was from the truth, but went along with it. “You and Lynn did great too! You guys have a cozy house, a comfortable living, and a nice, obedient kid.”

Draco’s arms fell onto the back of the sofa, as did his expression which turned bitter. “Obedient, huh.”

“Isn’t Tom obedient?”

“Too obedient actually.”

Eyebrows raised in a question, Hermione laughed. “Is that even a thing?”

Draco flashed a wistful smile at her before turning his gaze to a crack in the ceiling. He stared at it as if it was the most intriguing thing in the universe, his eyes distant and lost in the past. “You know, when I found out I was going to have a son, I told myself I would be a better father than my own parents ever were.” 

His jaw clenched. “I wouldn’t drink. I wouldn’t gamble. All my attention and love would go to my son. And he would grow up to be a strong, smart, and capable man - everything that I wasn’t.”

His words tugged at her heart strings. She shook her head furiously, her hand flying to cup his. “But Draco, you are the strongest man I’ve known. You are more disciplined than any one of us. You always knew what you wanted in life.”

Earnest words tumbled out of her mouth, the alcohol loosening her tongue. “You protected us. That’s why I lo-”

“I’m not smart though, that’s for sure.” He cut in with a simper. His lips cracked into a scornful smile as he massaged his forehead between thumb and forefinger. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t end up in a dead-end job and slowly get replaced by robots.”

His sharp tone dug into her skin and she tightened her grip on his hand. She longed to cradle his head in her lap and whisper words of comfort into his ear. But the smidgen of self-control that she still retained, prevented her from doing so. She settled for tightening her grip on his hand, hoping to convey her sincerity through the warmth of her skin.

“That’s why I wanted Tom to focus on his studies,” Draco continued with a heavy sigh. “That’s why I’m always strict with him.”

His head fell to the side and he frowned at Hermione. “But that kid always finds ways to make me angry.”

Fear lanced through her body. She withdrew her hand. Did Draco know about them? Her heart leapt to her throat. “What did he do?” she croaked out.

Draco shook his head, his face contorting into a mixture of disgust, frustration, and despair. “He’s so weak. He doesn’t do sports. He doesn’t have friends.” 

Her shoulders slumped in relief and a smile almost crossed her lips. Keeping her expression in check, she listened to Draco ramble on.

“He can’t even order food! When I try to tell him that he needs to be confident and brave, he goes to a corner and sulk.” Throwing his hands up in the air, he ended his rant with a scoff.

“Maybe it’s the way that you tell him rather than what you tell him?” she said gently.

“I don’t know.” His chest deflated. “I only want him to be as strong as I was. Is that too much to ask?”

His eyes searched hers, pleading for an answer. The dark eye bags that framed his beautiful irises seemed to grow heavier under the weight of his problems.

“You should tell him that you love him.” Before she could stop it, the words spilled out in a soft murmur.

“I do. Sometimes.” Draco pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes. The tinge of red on his cheeks darkened. Whether it was from embarrassment or the alcohol, she couldn’t tell. “Then he rolls his eyes and mumbles something under his breath. When I ask him to speak up, he glares at me. If I say anything more, he goes running to Lynn.”

“Yeah he seems to be closer to Lynn.”

“Too damn close!” he grumbled, his hand falling to the side. “He still runs to our bed in the night when he has nightmares.” 

Hermione lifted an eyebrow but remained silent. 

“I tell him to grow up and stop depending on Lynn. But oh no, Lynn will have none of that.” Draco twisted his features into a mock impression of his wife. The pitch of his voice raised to a whiny, nasally sound as he imitated her. “He’s still her little baby boy.”

At the mention of Lynn’s nickname for Draco when they were teenagers, Hermione stiffened. She scoffed and threw her empty beer can onto the table. The sharp clunk as the metallic can hit the glass surface matched her tone. “I thought you used to like it when she called you that.”

“That’s different!” Draco exclaimed defensively, his eyes widening in protest. “After you get married, things change. Now, Lynn doesn’t even look at me. Her entire world revolves around Tom.”

A dash of childish revenge made her heart skip a beat. The corner of her lips lifted into a devilish smirk as she teased, “What’s this? You’re getting jealous?”

“Maybe I am.” Quick to admit his feelings, he pointed an accusing finger in the air. “You know that night-time job of hers? It’s meant to help with Tom’s extra classes, which I can’t cover with my salary alone.”

She shrugged. “More money is good, no?”

“Yes,” he agreed with reluctance. His eyelids fluttered close for a second before he countered, “But he doesn’t need all those classes if he focuses on work and stops getting protected by his mother.” 

“Tomorrow is the festival, right?” he asked, not expecting an answer, as he barreled on. “I planned it all out. It would be a nice night away from here. Just the two of us.”

A pang of jealousy rippled through Hermione. Gnawing the inside of her cheek, she held her bubbling emotions at bay. Her heart hammered in her chest like a wild animal screaming to get out of its cage.

Ignorant of her mood change, Draco babbled, “And then she told me she has to work the night shift over the festival because it pays more. Seriously, like what the hell?”

Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe she had heard enough of Draco’s venting. Or maybe the question on the tip of her tongue had always been there when she blurted out, “Why did you choose to marry Lynn?”


	39. Privilege Escalation 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One thing leads to another! Boy is this trouble after trouble!
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

As soon as the words left her lips, she clamped it shut. She had said it out loud. The question hung in the air like a ticking bomb. Fearful eyes studied Draco’s expression, waiting for judgement to be passed on her.

The blank look on his face shifted to one of nostalgia. A small smile flitted across his lips, dancing between bitterness, regret, and happiness. His voice dropped an octave as he looked at her lovingly. “You know at one point, I thought it was going to be the both of us that ended up together. Does that surprise you?”

Rendered speechless, she stared at him, uncomprehending. Nothing he said made any sense. Time slowed down like a tape on replay. She saw his lips move, the words jumbling in her mind until its meaning was distorted.

Seeing her shock, Draco chuckled wistfully. “I was pretty into you but you seemed to treat me like a big brother. You would flirt with so many guys and I got so jealous each time.” 

“You craved their affection,” he pointed out in a matter-of-fact tone that sliced through her skin. “It was then I realized that everyone was addicted to something - you with affection, mum with booze, dad with money.” 

“But Lynn wasn’t.” He turned his gaze to the front, staring not at the television that spanned most of the console table, nor the owl figurines that covered the remaining surface area, but at the photo frame of his wedding. A young Draco smiled blissfully back at him, hand thrown over the glowing Lynn’s shoulder. 

“She was always so happy and unaffected by things.” His tone was soft and loving as his eyes drifted over the still moment in his life where everything seemed right. Married to the woman he loved, he had been on top of the world.

“She was a ray of sun that warmed my heart.” A curtain of unshed tears blurred his vision. He blinked it away and tilted his head to face Hermione. “I mean, you felt it too, right?”

Sitting there on the couch beside him, she felt like she was floating in a different world. The warring emotions in her crescendoed into a tsunami that washed everything away. Numb and disoriented, she could only give a stiff nod.

“She was there for me.” He reached out to pat her hand. “Just like we were there for you.”

The rough of his palm jolted her into reality. His words came into sharp focus and with it, a knife that stabbed right at her core. Her eyes narrowed and she snatched her hand away from him.

Lips curling down into a snarl, she spat, “You were there for me? Don’t make me laugh.”

Confusion shone in his eyes. His hand still hovered above the sofa as he stammered, “W-what do you mean?”

“One of Mum’s boyfriends always made advances on me.” The words left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue but she swallowed it down. “You didn’t know that, right?”

His eyes widened in shock, his mouth dropping open. Then, surprise turned into pity. She dropped her gaze, her hair tumbling down over her shoulders and obstructing part of her view.

Don’t look at me like that, a tiny voice screamed inside her. Don’t.

“Of course you didn’t,” she said quietly. “One night, I had enough of it.”

“So I ran.” 

The sound of her bare feet slapping against the hard concrete surface echoed in her head. She could taste the salty tears mingled with sweat as it poured down her face that night. 

“And ran.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. A lump formed in her throat as her heartbeat increased to match the imaginary pounding of her feet. 

“I ran to your place, Draco.” 

Chest heaving in effort, the young Hermione came to a stop outside a dull grey house, over-crowded with weeds in its yard. In her mind’s eye, she could still trace the vines that creeped up its walls and wrapped itself around the window frame.

“And I saw you.”

She traced her gaze to the open window where a warm light shone from within. Two figures stood, locked in an embrace. The hope she held within her heart that day was extinguished.

“Saw you kissing Lynn.” Her voice hitched as she forced herself to say those words.

“I knew then that you had chosen Lynn.” Her head drooped lower, her voice falling by an octave until it could barely be heard. “Over me.”

“Hermione, what are you.. saying?” Thick with emotion, his voice wavered.

Reaching deep into her soul, she wrenched open the box hiding all her insecurities. Her darkest fears, her weakness - all were laid bare.

“I wanted affection because no one wanted me.” She shook her head to and fro. “Not my dad. Not my mum.”

“Not even you,” she choked out as tears formed behind her closed eyes.

She heard Draco say her name but she didn’t want to hear it. Today was the day she unloaded everything that had burdened her. She didn’t care if it was right or wrong. She wanted to be free.

“I loved you all this time, Draco,” she confessed. “I would give you anything. I would be with you anytime that you wanted.”

Mustering the courage to open her eyes, she looked up at him through a sheen of tears. “I only wanted guys to pay attention to me because the one that I really wanted wouldn’t even look at me!” 

Her vision blurred until she could barely make out Draco’s expression. Fingers curling into the leather of the sofa, she cried out with a breaking voice, “I wanted you to look at me, to love me as a woman!”

She thumped her chest in frustration and hurt. “Is that too much to ask?!”

Her voice cracked at the last word. It had barely left her tongue when she felt a rough hand cup her chin, pulling her into a tender kiss. Her eyes widened and she stilled. Draco broke the kiss, his eyelids fluttering open. His thumb brushed away the tears rolling down her cheeks and he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

A choked breath left her lips. Years of hidden fear, regret, and desire lifted off her shoulders. As she stared up into his face, the loving curve of his lips and gentle eyes filled the void in her heart. Trembling lips uttered his name before she wrapped a hand around his neck and claimed his lips once more.

Her sweetest daydream could not beat the feeling of his lips on hers. Gentle nibbles of his skin turned into hungry explorations of his mouth. The pent-up lust she had harbored broke free. His eager hands roamed down the curve of her back and traveled to areas of her body that sent shivers wracking through her.

Clothes were pushed aside and thrown away. Lying down, Draco’s weight on top of her crushed her into the enveloping softness of the sofa. As their bodies writhed together in frantic motion, the music from the speakers reached the end of its track. The house stood still as the sound of pants and moans filled the empty rooms and hallway. 

The wide, beady eyes of the owl figurines watched the forbidden coupling from their perch. Judging silently as the secret was whispered within the house’s four walls, knowing that hell would soon be unleashed.


	40. Privilege Escalation 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first death drops!! What do you think happened?
> 
> (If you want your character to have a cameo appearance in Devil's Triangle, please donate 38 Ink or buy me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/ivanskilling)!)

The swoosh of the police station’s front door was accompanied by a loud holler. “Guess who dropped by with snacks?!”

Every single head in the station turned to see who the noisy intruder was. Looking up from his cup of coffee, Harry craned his neck over the corner of the pantry. A wide grin split his lips and he called out, “Ron! What are you doing here?”

He sauntered over to the front desk, careful not to spill his coffee. Ron was surrounded by a growing crowd of people and Harry had to elbow his way in. One hand covering the top of his cup, he edged to the front where Ron was handing out boxes of pizza. After many a slap on Ron’s back as an expression of thanks, the crowd thinned.

“Wow what’s the occasion, man?” Harry laughed as his eyes drifted over the assortment of potato chips in Ron’s remaining bag. 

“My office had a celebration for the festival and some guy went overboard in ordering food. So I thought I would bring some over.” Grinning, Ron slung a meaty arm over Harry’s shoulder. “I guessed you guys might want some motivation.”

“We sure do.” Harry guided him over to his desk and pulled an empty chair over. “Thanks, I definitely need something to keep me awake. This coffee is not doing the trick.”

“Where’s that partner of yours?” Ron gestured to the desk opposite Harry, its occupant nowhere to be seen. 

“Marsha went out to help Luna get ready for the festival.”

Ron settled into the chair, it’s malleable back squeaking under his weight. He took out one of the potato chips and threw it to Harry. “Here, your favorite.”

Humming in contentment, Harry winked at his old friend. “You know me well.”

He set his cup down and tore the bag of chips open. “You’re not heading home yet, Ron?”

Ron gasped in mock horror. “I barely sat down for one minute and you’re shooing me away?”

Laughing him off with a wave of his hand, Harry popped one of the chips into his mouth and enjoyed the explosion of saltiness.

“Nah, I’m not in a rush,” Ron chuckled and leaned over the desk. “I’m going to stay up tonight anyway since the festival’s tomorrow. Any plans?”

A shake of his head accompanied the sad downturn of his lips. “Not really. I’ll visit Luna’s stall at the fair but I don’t think I can spend much time there.”

Clucking his disapproval, Ron played with the stress ball lying on the desk. He lifted an eyebrow and wagged his finger at Harry. “How about asking Hermione out?”

Harry stilled, his teeth biting through the chips midway. His mood dampened and he swallowed the remaining food down with his coffee. 

“What’s wrong?” Ron frowned. Concern lined his forehead.

“The other day, I heard from Rita that Hermione has a boyfriend.” Placing the packet of chips on his desk, Harry cradled the cup of coffee to his chest. “So I’m not sure what to think.”

“Rita?” The pudgy man scoffed. “You believe that old hag?”

A soft smile lifted the corner of Harry’s lips before it disappeared again. “She tends to exaggerate things but she’s not the kind to outright lie about stuff either.”

“Meh.” Ron’s face scrunched in disagreement as he waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t think you should give her words much thought. And even if Hermione has a boyfriend, it doesn’t mean there’s no hope at all.”

His optimism lifted Harry’s spirits and he chuckled. “Thanks, man. How about you? Got plans for tomorrow besides waking up late?”

Laughter rumbled Ron’s chest as he dipped his hand into the bag of chips on the desk. “I’m going to try and win a stuffed animal at the fair this time.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Harry winked. “Any of your colleagues going to the fair too?”

“Some.” His voice was muffled by the food in his mouth. Then, a thought popped in his mind and he exclaimed with a “Mmph!”

He quickly swallowed the chips down and beckoned Harry to come closer. When Harry leaned forward, he whispered conspiratorially, “I saw Draco and Lynn arguing this afternoon.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Where?”

“Outside the office.” Dropping his voice an octave lower, Ron scanned the station for any eavesdroppers. Most people were lazing at their desks or chatting at the pantry while eating the pizza that Ron brought over.

“Lynn came by and told Draco something. He got mad and after they bickered, she drove off.” Ron’s eyes glowed with the gleeful excitement of a child. “Draco was simmering in anger for the whole afternoon and then he went back early.”

Harry managed a breathless “Wow.” 

“Intense, right?” 

“Yeah,” Harry swept a hand through his hair. “I guess they’re definitely not going to the fair then.”

“You bet your ass they aren’t.” After licking his fingers, Ron wiped them off on his slacks. He got up and stretched. “I’m going to make a move then.”

“So fast?” An eyebrow quirked, Harry stood up as well.

“I only wanted to drop the food off and tell you the latest news. So my job is done now.” Ron grinned.

Placing a hand on his hip, Harry shook his head at his friend. He slapped him on the back. “Fine, I’ll see you out then.”

The two of them jabbered on as they walked towards the front desk. A shrill ring of the phone cut through their conversation for a second before the policewoman manning the desk answered the call. Ron pressed another bag of chips into Harry’s chest when the policewoman shot out of her seat, her voice increasing in urgency.

The men turned towards her in curiosity, their conversation halted. When she placed the phone down, she looked up at them. Her face was grim. Curt and to the point, she said, “There’s been a death.”

A shot of adrenaline coupled with fear tore through Harry’s body. “Murder??”

“No-” She cut herself off, her lips turning down in a grimace. “Well, it seems like an accident.”

“Where?”

She rattled off an address that Harry found familiar but couldn’t put a name to.

Beside him, Ron gulped hard. He rasped, “Who died?”

The policewoman looked down at her notebook where she had jotted down the details. “Umm..”

“A Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my dear readers! I have news about Devil's Triangle which I'm really sorry to share. 
> 
> I'm going to stop posting Devil's Triangle on Ao3 because I've been juggling way too many platforms and I can't keep up with maintaining this fanfic version of my original story. I'm so sorry to do this to all of my lovely readers but honestly, keeping Ao3 updated is taking a toll on me. 
> 
> If you still want to know what happens next though, the original story is still being updated on the Tapas platform! Below, I'm posting a full guide as to what the new original character names are for each fanfic character. So I hope that'll help in easing the transition to the original story. 
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who's been following Devil's Triangle! It makes me really happy to see people enjoying the story and I hope you'll check out the rest of the story on Tapas if you're interested! Love all of you!
> 
> [Check out Devil's Triangle on Tapas here!](https://tapas.io/series/Devils-Triangle/info)
> 
> **Name Guide**  
>  Sandra - Hermione  
> Thomas - Harry  
> Mark - Draco  
> Ray - Tom  
> Dina - Rita Skeeter  
> Albert - Ron  
> Elise - Tonks  
> Will - Remus Lupin  
> Bartley - Fenrir Greyback  
> Tamm - Luna 


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